Chapter 21: A Team, a Task Force and Allies

Warning: This is an M-rated fic. M-rated stuff will happen. That's your warning from here on out.

As the day began to make its presence known through the heavy drapes Harry once again woke to find himself alone. For the last two weeks he'd woken up every morning, hoping to find her as he usually did, sprawled out and taking up three-quarters of the bed, snoring slightly, but it wasn't to be. Resigning himself to yet another day of faffing about in the mornings and possibly taking yet another broom ride down to the village Harry slid a leg out of bed, flipped the covers back and sat up. After stretching a bit he reached over, put on his glasses and padded ungracefully towards the loo.

Once the morning duties were fulfilled he went to the wardrobe and stood there for a moment. Thankfully all the old clothes were moved to a different wardrobe, as he couldn't imagine what Kipsey's reaction would have been if he'd asked her to get rid of the old clothing. Instead there was a selection of normal, Muggle clothing in there. He'd offhandedly mentioned to Hermione during one of their study sessions that he was tired of wearing the old things that were in the wardrobe and the next day she'd arrived not only with the customary books but also a selection of Muggle clothing catalogues. From there it was easy enough; he just marked the things he thought weren't that bad and then called Kipsey. She took care of the rest, not bothering with sizes, saying that she would coordinate everything with Effie. When Hermione gave him an odd look and mentioned that usually people needed to try clothing on at the shops he offhandedly remarked that what didn't fit Kipsey could fix. Hermione was rather irritated with him the rest of the day. He knew she was really trying to understand house elves but she didn't understand that having Kipsey make the clothing fit him perfectly would make the little elf happy.

So after pulling on a pair of jeans, a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of trainers he headed down to breakfast. As always Kipsey had everything laid out for him; a full breakfast, tea, the Daily Prophet and a list of things that needed done. Usually it wasn't much, just a few things he needed to sign for Effie, things like authorising her to get rid of some of the nastier investments from the Black family or giving him a briefing on other opportunities, but for some reason he just didn't feel like doing any of it.

Dora'd been gone too long and he hadn't heard a bloody fucking thing.

To make matters worse it was Monday the 28th and his seventeenth birthday was in three days. He knew it really didn't matter, turning seventeen, when he was already an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world thanks to Sirius' emancipation edict in the will, not to mention the whole Lord Potter bit, but for some reason it was bothering him. His mind went back to his eleventh birthday, out that on that horrible island with the Dursleys, and even though he knew that Hagrid had found him, had told him he was a wizard, that even though his life had changed drastically since then a part of him still heard Vernon's voice in his head, telling him he was nothing. A freak. Even though he knew he wasn't a freak, that he was a wizard, sometimes he still felt that way, in the small part of his mind that knew that it was so far from the truth it was laughable, but in his dark moments he still felt that way. Even amongst the witches and wizards, the way that they looked at him, he still felt like a freak. A freak who was turning seventeen whilst his wife was Merlin-knows-where doing Merlin-knows-what.

Thankfully Kipsey came in to break his foul mood. "Master Harry, is breakfast not being tasty?"

He looked down to his plate and noticed he hadn't touched a thing. "Oh, no, sorry Kipsey. Sorry. I'm sure it's fine. Just not very hungry this morning."

Kipsey gave him a pointed look. "Master Harry must keep up his strength. I's come to tell you that the Earl of Weasley is being in the Floo."

It took a second for Harry to register exactly who she meant. "Oh, Ron? Tell him to come on through."

Kipsey nodded and headed out of the room, muttering under her breath that she'd need to cook more to feed Ron.

After a few moments Ron headed into the room, looking about as happy with life as his friend. He nodded to Harry, sat down at the table and shook his head. "You too, huh?"

"What?"

"Tonks is out, huh? I know how you feel. I haven't seen Jack in ages." He paused. "You gonna eat that sausage?"

"Help yourself. I'm sure Kipsey's bringing more."

"Thanks." Ron reached over and plucked the sausage off the plate. After a rather large bite and a quick chew he looked over to Harry. "Food's rotten at home these days. Mum's still not cooking so it's just us. Ginny's trying, and she's not half-bad, but it's not the same. If I have to eat one more thing that's been under stasis for...sorry. It's horrible at home these days."

"How's your mum?"

Ron had just about taken another bite of sausage but lowered it and shook his head. "The same. Just sits in there, says a word every now and then. Fred 'n George are at their shop most of the time. They're living in the flat over the shop. Wish they'd take me with them but..."

Kipsey entered, levitating another plate in front of her laden with food. She saw the sausage in Ron's hand, placed the plate down in front of him but transferred the sausage on his plate over to Harry's and then left without a word.

"Don't think she's happy with me popping over for breakfast."

Harry shrugged. "She's been on me to eat more. Kinda reminds me of your mum."

"You mean how Mum used to be, before everything." Ron sat back in his chair. "I thought when the Dark Wanker snuffed it things would be better, and after Dad things were bad but if anything they're even worse now. I think the only one who's even close to being happy these days is Charlie, and that's because Hermione's over all the time. Her mum doesn't come over any more. Her 'n Bill are done and he's not taking it too well. Tries to hide it, and he's better at it'n most of us, but I know the signs. Just hope Jack doesn't get tired of writing letters all the time and chucks me."

Harry gave Ron a 'you're being thick, mate' look. "I wouldn't worry about that too much, Cannon."

"Shit." Ron slumped. "Wish you'd never heard that." Seeing Harry shrug he went on. "And sorry about what happened out there, yelling at everyone. Sorry."

"It's all right, mate." Harry took up his tea. "I understand. If it makes you feel any better I'm useless these days. All I do is read this crap..." He picked up the folder of things from Gringotts and let it fall to the table. "...wander around the village and go to Hermione's study sessions. I have no idea what's going on."

Ron laughed mirthlessly. "And we're just supposed to go back in September, get on the Express and go to class like nothing's happened. We've fought Death Eaters. Like I give a shit if I get a detention or don't put enough detail on a parchment."

Harry saw Kipsey peek around the corner. "Uh, we better eat or someone will not be happy."

Ron scratched his head and then picked up his fork. "You know, before I would have done about anything to have a house elf. Now I'm not so sure." After a rather large mouthful of beans he looked across the table. "Hey, you know the Cannons are starting back up. Want to go watch practise? It's open to the public. C'mon, it'd be good for both of us. Quidditch, none of..." He paused. "Nothing else, just Quidditch. Don't make me go by myself."

After everything that had gone on for the last few weeks Harry latched on to the idea, which he would have dismissed before without a second thought as a Cannons practise would not be as exciting for him than it would be for Ron, but at the moment he latched on to the idea like a life raft. "Why not? After all, I want to see my future investment."

Ron shook his fork at Harry, bits of egg falling off. "Don't even joke about that." He paused and stared at Harry intensely. "Unless you're serious."

-ooo-

Ron's visit to Harry that morning was not just a random event; in fact it was a shrewdly calculated manoeuvre to make sure that Harry was out and about and not at the Lodge. During one of their late night 'wedding planning sessions' Dora had offhandedly mentioned that Harry had never truly had a good birthday party. Daphne couldn't quite believe that; after all, he was Harry Potter. But it was true. Dora knew that his seventeenth birthday was coming up, one of the very big ones for the wizarding world, and was determined to give Harry a good birthday. She also quite enjoyed using her clout as Lady Black to delegate the task of planning everything to Daphne, using the reasoning that her lady-in-waiting was doing such a good job with the wedding that something like a boring old normal birthday party would be a piece of cake. Daphne, realising what had just happened, responded in a manner and with language that let her true feelings be known but agreed nonetheless. With her usual foresight into such matters Daphne had called in the house elves, who were more than happy to assist. Once the house elves had agreed Daphne had turned to Dora with a self-satisfied smirk.

It was appropriate that the party was to be held in Scotland because, as the poet Robbie Burns wrote, 'The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men / Gang aft agley.' In this case it was obvious that Burns was a Muggle as he forgot house elves. The party was to begin at five. Ron's part of the plan was to take Harry to the open practise, which began at two, and have him back at the lodge right at five. As Daphne stood near the table with food and drink, helping herself to the umpteenth cup of punch, she couldn't help but notice that the large clock over the mantle of the fireplace read half-seven. For the first hour everyone seemed quite alright to have Harry run late, but when it began to stretch into the second hour the assembled crowd began to get a little restless.

"Heard anything?"

Ginny Weasley stood there, Luna Lovegood next to her, both of them in normal Muggle clothing. Daphne looked at the two of them and corrected herself; Weasley looked normal but Lovegood was...well she was normal for Lovegood. She had no idea whatsoever where the girl had procured pink and purple leopard-print tights, and pairing those with a green-and-yellow plaid shirt was eye-watering in it's own right. Topping it off was the fact that Lovegood wore one blue Wellie and one green Wellie. After collecting herself Daphne shook her head. "I'm afraid not. I'm about ready to send one of the house elves out to collect them. What could be taking them so long?"

"Really?" Ginny shook her head. "You sent Harry off with my brother to the Chudley Cannons practise and you're surprised they're late? What were you thinking? Of course they're going to notice Harry's there and that'll mean the team staff will talk to him and then Ron's there, in the place he's always wanted to be, and if anything I bet Harry can't drag him out of there. You might want to send all the house elves. I thought Slytherins were smarter than that."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Well we can't all be Granger."

Luna nodded her head, causing her butterbeer cork earrings to wobble back and forth. "I'm glad we're not all Hermione, it must be rather hard. I tried one day and it didn't work. My hair looked all wrong."

A small snort escaped from Daphne. "Trust me, if I wanted to emulate Granger the very last thing I would contemplate would be her hair."

Luna nodded. "It was quite difficult." After a pause she looked around the room and then turned back to Daphne. "Is Lady Tonks-Potter-Black here? I had better luck with her hair but Daddy said that pink is not my colour."

After shaking her head to rid herself of the mental image of Luna wearing that outfit whilst sporting pink hair Daphne sighed. "Unfortunately, no, she is not here. She hoped to be here, but..."

Ginny decided to change topics to one that had been discussed with Hermione when they were at the New Burrow. "Sooo, Greengrass...that was quite the lovely picture of you dancing at the wedding with Neville."

Daphne sighed. "I was speaking to my Mum when he came over with his Gran. Lady Longbottom suggested we dance. What was I to do, tell her no? I think he was as mortified as I was." She paused. "Though he is a surprisingly good dancer. Who knew?"

"Me." Ginny arched an eyebrow at Daphne's look of surprise. "What? He was my date to the Yule Ball."

Not knowing how to respond Daphne glanced around the room. It was a good turnout, not that she had any doubts. The Hogwarts instructors and some of the other adults were sitting and chatting, the Hogwarts students were off in groups, somehow not confined by house. Unsurprisingly there was a crowd around Fred and George Weasley as they showed off some of their new products. Granger and her Weasley were at a small seating area speaking to Professor Lupin and the First American ICWW representative. A smattering of goblins were spread throughout the throng, giving her pause. Her grandmother, never one to mince words, would have thought the fact that goblins attended an event such as this would have been far too scandalous to even contemplate. Music played in the background and then finally, finally, Kipsey came in and said that Harry and Ron had just arrived via the Floo.

Harry walked around the corner and stopped dead. "What the..."

As everybody yelled 'Surprise!' Ron looked over at him with a shit-eating grin. "Never had a clue, did ya?"

At that point Harry walked in and accepted congratulations from everyone, as gracefully as possible, but his eyes kept scanning the crowd looking for one person in particular. When he met eyes with Daphne he took one look at her and she knew immediately what he was thinking so she slowly shook her head.

"There he is!" Fred slung an arm around his shoulder.

"Man of the hour!" George mirrored his twin. "So, my dear Lord Potter..."

"Boy Who Lived..."

"Tonks tamer..."

"Where the bloody hell have you been?"

At this point the crowd seemed to part slightly and Jack stood there, in a summery dress, and looked at Ron. Ron smiled widely and for a moment neither of them did anything. Finally, though, unable to stand it, Jack half-ran forward and literally jumped into Ron's arms.

"Bloody hell!" Fred slid his arm off of Harry's shoulder and stared at his brother. "George?"

George mimed wiping away tears. "Our little Ronnikins is all grown up, dear brother."

Fred nodded. "And found the only girl in Britain who thinks he isn't a git. Astounding luck, right Harry?"

Before Harry could respond he was engulfed by arms and a mass of curly brown hair. "Oh Harry! Happy Birthday!"

Once he could breathe again Harry laughed and patted Hermione on the back. "Thanks."

She held him at arm's length. "Where have you been? You can't have been at the Chudley practise for that long."

"Well..." Harry shrugged. "It was pretty normal at first, we just sat in the stands with everyone, but then someone noticed us and we were surrounded with people. Security had to come and rescue us and by that time the owner came down and we ended up watching from the owner's box. I didn't think Ron said a word to anyone for an hour, he just kept mumbling 'can't believe it' over and over with his face pressed up against the glass."

"Happy Birthday, Harry." Ginny leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Please tell me Ron didn't talk you into buying the Cannons."

"Um..." Harry rubbed a hand through his hair. "Not exactly..."

"Merlin's balls." Ginny sighed. "What happened?"

With a small crowd gathered and hanging on his words Harry recounted how Frederico Dwyer, the owner, spoke to him of the difficulty in fielding a competitive side due to finances. At first Harry thought the wizard wanted him to buy the team but eventually, after much beating around the bush, it came out; Dwyer wanted to form a Supporters' Trust, a way for fans to buy into the team to supplement funds. Apparently Dwyer ran a rather lucrative potions supply business based in Brazil and somewhere called New Jersey that took up most of his funds, leaving him little to spend on the Cannons. He couldn't spend as much on the Quidditch side as he wanted for fear of harming his main business, so it was imperative for him to gather as many Galleons as possible in new ways.

It was at that time that Ron seemed to regain consciousness and joined the conversation. Harry had tried to delay any decision by stating that he'd need to speak to Effie, his Gringotts account manager, but at that point Ron had latched on to the idea. After shaking hands with Dwyer they'd gone to Gringotts, where Ron decided that the money Sirius had given him in the will couldn't be spent in a better fashion than investing in the Cannons. Since Effie wasn't available Ragnok himself dealt with Harry, the end result being that both Harry and Ron now were full-fledged, fully paid members of the Chudley Cannons Supporters' Trust.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione turned to give him a piece of her mind but stopped. Ron was on a sofa, Jack half in his lap, their heads close together. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Charlie.

"It's ok, let him be for a bit. I'm sure Bill will give him an earful later." He bent down so only she could hear. "It's the happiest I've seen him in ages. All he does is write letters these days. Good thing we've got a new owl, with all the letters he writes her I think Errol would have had a heart attack."

As the party wore on, and after Harry had spoken to what seemed like everyone he knew, the Floo came into life and someone stepped out, but it wasn't the person he was hoping to see. Instead of Dora it was Bill Weasley, his hair down long and not in the customary ponytail, who shook his hand.

"Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Thanks, Bill."

Bill reached into his pocket and brought out a small, somewhat battered along the edges box. "I'm sure you've got a lot of presents but...this is from Mum."

"Really?" Harry took the box gingerly. "How is she?"

Bill's shoulders slumped. "She has good days and bad days. I wasn't planning on coming tonight, figured I'd stay with her while everyone else came, but I was just sitting there listening to the wireless and reading when she walked in. Hasn't been out of her room in ages so it surprised me. And for a moment, it...it was like she was Mum again. Handed me the box and said that 'traditions should be followed.' I'm pretty sure I know what it is."

Harry slowly opened the box and saw the watch. It was a gold watch, with a small dent on one side.

"I was right. It was Uncle Fabian's." Bill took a heavy breath. "A watch is the traditional gift for a wizard's seventeenth birthday. Harry, if you've ever wondered what you mean to Mum, there you go."

Harry slowly took the watch out of the box. He put it around his wrist and fastened it, the leather of the band somewhat stiff. A lump started forming in his throat but he swallowed quickly. "Bill..." He stopped. "It's the best birthday present I've ever had."

Bill put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm glad it has a good home now."

-ooo-

Dora stepped out of the Floo. "I'm here!" After a step she stopped and looked around the empty lodge. "Oh for fuck's sake, the time difference! Fucking hell!"

All the lights in the lodge were dimmed. The furniture looked as it had the last time she left, not moved about in preparation for a birthday party. After letting her rucksack fall to the floor she turned as a noise caught her ear.

"Mistress Tonksie is being back!" Dobby hurried over to her and picked up the rucksack. "Is Mistress Tonksie needing food?"

"Nah, ate before I took the portkey." She looked down hopelessly at Dobby. "Was it a good party?"

He nodded his head rapidly, ears wobbling back and forth. "Oh it was being a very good party."

"What time is it here?" She rolled her eyes. "I'm an idiot." With a flourish of her wand she cast a quick tempus spell. The glowing numbers in front of her read 1:45. "Dammit. Bloody nine hour difference." She noticed Dobby looking at her oddly. "Don't say anything about that, even to Harry, got it? They'd have my arse."

After Dobby vehemently indicated that he would keep his mistresses' secrets he wished her good night and padded off, leaving her alone, in the semi-dark, cursing her own negligence for forgetting about the time zone differences. She'd made sure to leave as soon as she could, the goblins on her team assuring her that they would keep Narcissa 'safe and secure' and then she'd left as fast as possible.

It was somewhat surreal, being home and in her own skin. The subterfuge of being Narcissa had been exhausting on a number of levels. They'd tracked her to France, and after an initial meeting with Emile Delacour she'd started her mission. It was horrible at first, being cooped up with Narcissa in that rundown little house out in the countryside, members of the Task Force along with their French counterparts keeping Narcissa a prisoner of sorts. That first meeting with Narcissa, when she'd walked in, was nasty at best. There was more than once she was glad there were others in the room because she wanted nothing more than to take out her wand and curse her aunt. Eventually, though, they figured out exactly what Narcissa was doing; the blood of the Blacks still ran thick through her veins, obvious from the plan. As Draco was dead and Merlin knows where Lucius was Narcissa had fled England, hoping to make contact with some of the more unsavoury characters her husband had dealt with over the years. Specifically members of what turned out to be a shadowy group of magical assassins. As all of the Galleons were in Lucius' name, and he was still alive, Narcissa had little to no access to funds. As a confirmed Death Eater there was no way that Gringotts was a possibility for her to gather gold, leaving only some small, non-goblin run institutions that Lucius had squirrelled away small amounts 'for emergencies.' After retrieving all the gold she could Narcissa wanted to hire the assassins, have Lucius killed in a very public forum, leaving her to inherit everything.

Dora shook her head, trying to get everything out of her mind. She couldn't come back to her husband with her head still filled with work. It irritated her that whilst acting as Narcissa she'd made a little progress but nothing to write home about; the assassins were fairly easy to contact but gaining their trust, let alone getting them to agree to the contract on Lucius, was tedious and nerve-wracking at best. And it had all ended in failure; nobody knew where Lucius Fucking Malfoy was. It was like he'd dropped off the face of the earth.

She quietly made her way down the hallway, opened the door as quietly as possible and glanced over to the bed. Harry was sleeping as he always did, somewhat curled up on his side, facing the window with one foot sticking out of the covers. She sat down on one of the chairs and took off her boots, sitting them down on the carpet as softly as possible. With a sigh she went to the loo, letting her clothes fall on to the floor carelessly, and started the shower.

After finishing up and drying her hair with her wand she thought about putting on a t-shirt and calling it a night, hoping she could make it up to Harry for missing his birthday, but then a smirk spread across her face. She waved her hand to turn off the light in the loo and as starkers as the day she was born went over to bed and slid in under the covers, trying to figure out how to wake him. It was an unnecessary thought as she had just pulled the sheet over herself when Harry turned over.

"You're home?"

"I am." She leaned over and kissed him softly. "Sorry I missed everything."

He put his hand up to her and ran his fingers through her hair. "It's ok. I'm just glad you're here." He locked eyes with her. "How long?"

"Dunno." She scooted over towards him. "Hopefully a really long time."

Harry moved his hand down from her hair, tracing her shoulder and then when he realised that it was only skin, nothing else under his hand he looked at her in a bit of shock. Even in the very feint light of the room he could see her smile. "Starkers?"

She slid close to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and then put her hand up his shirt on his back. "Well, you are legal now."

He laughed. "I've been legal for a while."

"I know, but now it doesn't feel like I've been doing something illegal. Would you like your birthday present?"

"You didn't have to get me anything."

She raised up on her elbow, giving him a good view. "Who said I did?"

Later on, when both of them were too occupied in each other to notice, a pale blue light enveloped both of them. Just for a moment, so quick that it would have been hard to detect even if one was waiting for it. Neither of them noticed and even if they had it is doubtful they would have cared.

-ooo-

Antonin Dolohov stood next to his master in the stone cave, a smile almost upon his lips as the moronic Australian wizard writhed under his master's Cruciatus curse. Then the hint of the smile disappeared as he remembered exactly why his master was angry; Australia had been a complete waste of time. The so-called wizards sympathetic to the cause were cowardly and weak. They had talked a good game, of ridding the world of Muggles and Muggle-loving wizards and witches, of setting up Britain as the only true country for right-thinking people, but when push came to shove the only thing they wanted was to save their own skin.

Finally satisfied that the Australian wizard had understood that failure was not an option the Dark Lord slid his wand back into his sleeve. The wand worked well enough, that was true, but it did not feel exactly right. The witch from France who had tried to defend her Muggle husband was weak, so weak that one of the new recruits had easily killed her. Part of the Dark Lord wished for his old wand, the one that easily slid from the walking stick. Then, almost as soon as that thought surfaced he pushed it down. It was bad enough having to possess Lucius' body but to endure such echoes of Malfoy's former life was almost unbearable.

In an irritated frame of mind he waved away the Australian wizard and two Death Eaters came forward and drug the man away. He sat upon his throne and was silent for a moment, gathering his hands so the tips of his fingers touched, index fingers resting upon his lips. After coming to a decision he turned to Dolohov.

"It is time to move. Send word to our allies that we shall begin to gather in preparation. I want to move within the month."

Dolohov cursed inwardly, as he knew he would be the bearer of bad news. "My Lord, with how spread out our allies are it will take longer than a month to gather. Perhaps September would be best."

The Dark Lord whirled his head around, patchy white hair swirling around his face for a moment before settling. "No. The seer in Belgium prophesied that September is an ill month for our endeavours. If August is not possible, and I will confirm that you are not lying to me, Dolohov, if August is not possible then perhaps one of the high holidays is best." He glared at Dolohov, reaching out to him with a somewhat feint legilimens to confirm that his lieutenant was not lying. "Samhain. We will move on Samhain. Go."

As Dolohov left the Dark Lord fell into contemplation. Lucius' body was too weak, his connection too feeble to survive the creation of another horcrux. The allies he had gathered, those who were loyal, were still not numerous enough for his need. But with the plan now set to begin on Samhain there was enough time, time to go to Asia, time to call in his markers. They would stage their attack from France, once those feeble excuses for French Aurors were dealt with.

And then, unbidden and unwelcome, a flash drifted through the Dark Lord's mind. An image of his wife, young, before his son was born, standing out in the bright French sunshine, wind whipping through her hair. Slamming his hand down on the arm of the throne the Dark Lord pushed that though away from his consciousness, stood and stalked out of the large chamber of the cave. As he walked he reached up and began pulling hair out of his head, letting it fall in bloody clumps on the stone floor.

A/N: Doesn't look like possessing Lucius' body is going that well for old Voldemort, does it? And now we know when shit's going down, Halloween. Has to be Harry's least favorite holiday ever and I don't blame him.

So, Harry's legal now, Ron's as pleased as punch and it looks like Daphne & Neville's dance was just that, simply a dance. Had to have a little bit of Luna and Ginny because after re-reading everything I realized that they've both been largely MIA from this story. Sorry 'bout that. They'll figure in, eventually, in some way, shape or form.

And I have an idea of where everything is heading! I know, shocking. May be a little bit longer than the two or three chapters I mentioned in the last A/N section. I finally (FINALLY) went back and figured out exactly when in the calendar each chapter happened, so we've got Hogwarts coming up soon and then Halloween. I also did my spreadsheet of everything so I have things clear in my mind. Spreadsheets; the key to my fiction. Shocking, even to me.

Hopefully more soon. Thanks for reading, everyone. This, a story I started on kind of a lark, is my most popular piece of writing. Surprising but very much appreciated. As always, review if you wish.

Oh, and guestDad? I promise I will get back to Secret Author. Promise. Hopefully soon.