Mastermind Hunting

by Louis IX

This is a story of the life of Harry Potter. From his disappearance with his friendly relatives to Dumbledore chasing after him around the world, while Voldemort and muggle secret services loom in the background. Technology, Prophecies... one word: power.

26. The Masquerade and the Apocalypse

MASTERMIND HUNTING, by Louis IX
Check first chapter for summary, disclaimer, and other warnings.

PART 4 – Everything Goes Down the Drain
This part covers chapters 26 to 36 and concerns Harry's third year at Hogwarts.

Chapter 26 – The Masquerade and the Apocalypse
posted December 31st, 2005

The moment Harry passed the door, he felt the pull of a magical portal – he knew about them from Sirius' house – and found himself outside again. It was a bit strange, because the door had been on the ice cream parlour's second floor and he was now on the pavement of a small alley. Several persons were standing in a half-circle around him, and, before he could even speak, four quick incantations resounded in the alley and four red beams shot towards him.

By hearing the thoughts around him, Harry knew that it was a mere Stunning spell, and he played the surprised tourist by not moving out of the way. He was genuinely surprised, though, but he decided to take advantage of the situation. Despite the fact that he was still conscious, he let himself fall to the floor. Not only would it look normal, but he would be able to see what their reactions would be, and he also wanted to study their odd appearance.

All of them wore flowing robes and elaborate masks, even the woman and her son. Harry briefly reflected about the suddenness of the change, and, elaborating on the thoughts broadcasted around him, he guessed that it was because of some kind of magic linked to the doorway. As he didn't have a mask himself, he suspected that the charmed portal brought back the others' true appearance, instead of creating these masks on the fly. So... these were their usual clothes? Harry realized that not displaying them allowed them to hide while in the muggle part of the town. A masking charm on a mask...? It was already mind-boggling.

The woman gave the little boy – who was presumably her son – to someone who seemed indubitably male, despite the hiding garments. On top of remarking that the man's stature was one of authority, Harry noticed that his mask bore many resemblances with the boy's. So much, in fact, that he realized that it must be the boy's father. The woman then approached him, smirking – the mask followed her mocking expression, as if it was moulded on her face… unless it was her face. "A tourist, huh?" she asked. "More a spy from the doge, I say. Your master's predecessors tried already, you know. We will not relinquish our only time out as ourselves. It's only a week a year, for Marcus' sake! Obliviate!"

After casting the spell, she turned around and started to discuss with the others. Apparently, they were annoyed that the little boy had gone that far in the muggle city despite whatever protections against it. Harry, not in the least affected by the memory spell, judged he had heard enough and stood up.

"Now, that was not very nice." he said, brushing his sleeves.

The other wizards tried to Stun him again, but his shield held true and he smiled. "Is that how you welcome foreign wizards?" he asked.

One of them, a witch, approached him from the side, and Harry could only marvel at their craft in making those elaborated masks and robes. If he wasn't an accomplished Legilimens, he would have been hard-pressed to guess her gender.

"Is it true? You aren't a spy of the doge?"

Harry bowed. "I'm not, Madam." he said, and that earned a gasp from the others. "I swear I don't have any ill intentions toward you... I don't even know what the doge is! Is it the muggle town's council?"

"Mug...le?" she asked.

Harry hadn't been able to translate the term in Italian, and he elaborated. "Non-magical people."

"Well..." the woman started, but she was interrupted by another one.

A severe-looking mask came in Harry's sight, and its owner spoke curtly. "Sort of."

It brought an uneasy pause, and Harry was acutely reminded of Snape in his best days. Even the man's mind seemed to follow the Potion Master's structure, as Harry's peripheral Legilimency didn't yield any useful information.

The silence was broken by the woman he had encountered outside. "Since you swore to our faces, the magic had certified you were trustworthy." she said, and Harry instinctively knew that it was true, despite the fact that she was hiding something. She then exchanged a brief glance with... her husband? They seemed to reach a quick decision, and she addressed him again. "If you can swear not to reveal anything of what you'll find here to anyone, I will lead you for a visit."

Harry looked genuinely surprised. Why was there so much secrecy around it? Shrugging the feeling to the side, he promised as such, and they all looked satisfied. The man with the stern mask and the genderless-clad woman nodded, the deference apparent in the gesture. They then stepped back to stand guard near the entrance, leaving Harry with the little family.

"This place isn't quite appropriate to conduct meetings." the father said, and Harry jumped at the deep and commanding voice. "And we wouldn't want the scene to repeat at every corner. Before you follow us, can you hide your face and body?"

Harry nodded wordlessly and transfigured his outfit in a flowing cloak with a hood, which he drew up. They looked at him for a few silent seconds before leaving, Harry following them through the streets of what he thought as magical Venice.

It was an eerie place, as each and every person there had robes and a mask. Harry briefly wondered about the temperature – after all, it was summer and the heavy robes ought to be uncomfortable – but he quickly reasoned that their garment was certainly charmed to stay cool whatever the weather was.

While he followed his hosts, he quickly realized that he was looked at as an intruder, and people started to whisper behind his back. Recognizing this, the woman led him to a small maze of alleyways through which the foursome hurried until they passed a particular door.

"Phew." the woman breathed, slightly panting. Since the Venetians seemed used to their heavy garments, Harry supposed that it was because of walking that fast with her son in her arms – especially after having done so in Muggle Venice.

"What was this about?" asked Harry. "Why did you hurry?"

"You see," the woman began, "the clothes you... created... are those we give to people in prison. Or rather, the whole robe-without-mask outfit is. We didn't think about it, and some people started to talk about you."

"I saw the masks, and I was wondering... what is it about?"

The couple threw an uncertain glance to each other, until they seemed to reach an unsaid conclusion. The woman grabbed the little boy's hand and dragged him out of the entrance hall, and the man led Harry to a beautiful room, which seemed to act as a study and lounge at the same time.

The richly decorated room had a corner with two oaken bookcases and a sturdy desk, while the rest of the space was occupied by leather couches. Several paintings hung on the walls, and Harry's attention was dragged to one of them, a sombre one, where two men were standing in front of a huge gate. In the picture, the doorway was half-open, and an ominous reddish light was pouring out of it, highlighting the outline of several misshaped creatures inside. The boy didn't know what the painting was showing, and he approached to decipher the text that was painted atop the gate.

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.

"Abandon all hope, you who enter here." Harry translated. Despite knowing Italian since his first stay in Rome, Old Italian was a bit more difficult. While he was wondering what it was about, he heard the man walking behind him, and he turned around to see the man's mask looking at the painting as well.

"Dante and Virgil about to pass the Gate of Hell." the man commented. "The famous necromancer visited the realms of the dead and came back with a tale. However, the non-magical government of that time didn't realize the impact of the manuscript, and only shortened and unusable versions subsist to this day. This, and artistic works." he finished, his arm encompassing the walls of the room, where other paintings rested. He then went behind the desk and sat on the leather armchair, before motioning towards the two high-backed chairs on the other side.

"Please, sit. Tea?"

Harry did so. "Yes, thank you, sir...?"

The man didn't answer and, while he was serving the amber liquid, his expression looked uneasy. "I'd rather we don't address each other by names, yet. It's already uncomfortable enough for us to have seen your face."

"I'm sorry about it. I just didn't know. Is that why you have masks?"

"Well... yes, and no. But I'm not ready to speak about this either."

"What do you want to talk about, then?" asked Harry, clearly disappointed

The man stood up briskly and went to a window, on Harry's right, to look at the harbour beyond. "Since you didn't seem to know about the Doge, you are perhaps wondering what we are at all."

Harry nodded silently, and, strangely, the man seemed to notice the movement, even with his back to him.

"To understand, I will have to give you a bit of History first. Our city, Venice, has been established during what the non-magical people call the 6th century. We don't count like that, however: our years are aligned on the city's founding. We are now in year 1425, by the way.

"In year 132, the city changed its ruling body, and the large tribunes were replaced by a leader, chosen among the most powerful and charismatic men of the city, and elected for life. It was a successful arrangement until year 1229, when Napoleon's troops invaded the country, and the last purely Venetian doge abdicated, giving his power to the French emperor. Since then, and until recently, the office of the doge had been taken, quite informally, by several rulers of Austria and Italy.

"You have to understand that the title of Doge of Venice is a very powerful one in itself: on top of the Duchy of Venice, it also implies ruling over the Duchies of Dalmatia and Istria, something which has made Venice the naval power it was. For instance, it was Venetian boats which allowed the crusade of 636 to take place... but I digress.

"The ruling of the magical part of the town is something else entirely. When invaded by the French army, we made sure to separate completely from the non-magical parts of the town, and started using masks daily to hide our features. Masks were part of our folklore from year 594, but they became survival tools since the invasion. And, since then, we have never departed them, even magically ensuring that we would have them on ourselves all the time. Specialized spells are cast upon each newborn to provide him with a permanent mask, which will grow and adapt with the child's evolution.

"In 1362, when the Italian president forbade the use of masks, we shut our community completely and lived in autarchy until 1411."

The man paused, seemingly in deep thoughts, and he took a sip from his now-cold teacup. Harry had listened raptly, his History of Magic lessons had never told him about a magical community in Venice – then again, Binns' main topic seemed to be the Goblin wars. He had gasped when the man had told him about the permanent masks, and had made the appropriate computations in his head to get the events' proper dates.

"What happened in 1979... I mean, in 1411?" he asked.

"A group of wizards came to us." the man said, turning around. "They forced their way into our wards, and started to spout nonsense about pureblood ethics and things we didn't have a clue about – especially as they talked English all along and few of us could understand the language. Seeing that they didn't achieve their propaganda, they went away, but not without much destruction in their wake. The magical explosion killed ten of our people, injured dozens, and damaged the submersed structures which hold the city upright. Judging that it was time to meet the outside world, a delegation tried to retrieve the current doge to get his protection, but they stumbled on a sizeable obstacle."

The man stopped there, his pensive expression becoming annoyed. He took another sip of tea before continuing. "Through Marcus-knows-what machinations, the powers that had allied themselves during World War two passed the Doge position to the British government, and it is now linked to the position you might know as British Minister of Magic."

Harry expelled the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. "Fudge." he whispered.

"Yes, Fudge." the man answered absently. "Since then, we have tried to get the position back in Venice itself, since it allowed the Doge a better control over the city, both magical and non-magical. We have even started patrolling the non-magical city in our normal garb – masks and everything – to display our willingness of managing our city locally. But the man has always rejected our envoys, and, politically, we are in a dead end."

He then looked at him. "Would you help us, Harry Potter?"

---

At the same moment, somewhere else...

"And, to Harry Potter, I have decided to award ten thousands Galleons and the Order of Merlin, third class, for having disposed of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Cornelius Fudge said pompously, and smiled when he noticed the effect his words had on the crowd of reporters.

The man on the other side of the podium looked at him coldly, though. "When I am elected, I will fine you for embezzlement on this issue." he said. "There is no need to reward Mr Potter now instead of 12 years ago, and everybody knows that the boy has yet to be found – another proof of your inability, really. Since he is unreachable, the Ministry policy is for the Minister to keep the money. A policy you passed recently, by the way. Admit it, Fudge: you were just giving yourself a small allowance."

Fudge glared at his opponent, remembering what was at stake today.

It was the last couple of days before the Minister election, and, as was customary, the final contenders had to subject themselves to a free-for-all debate in front of a room full of journalists. Low blows were the norm rather than the exception then, and the tawny-haired man in front of him had served him more than what he was able to stomach. That, and the two old men who were sitting behind Scrimgeour, showing their support. Dumbledore and Flamel, really! Fudge had thought that the alchemist had been a sham, and he had refused the living legend from accessing the room. However, it had backfired spectacularly when Dumbledore had sworn on his magic that it really was Nicholas Flamel. When Fudge had asked the old Headmaster to cast a spell to prove that his oath hadn't stripped him of all magic, the man had given him donkey ears for thirty seconds – not enough to justify formal charges, but enough to ridicule him.

Fudge concentrated back on the debate. If he wanted to survive – politically and literally – he had to find an angle of attack. It wasn't something he was used to, though, as the previous elections had been quite peaceful. At that time, Fudge had benefited from Dumbledore's support from the start, and the portly man hadn't had to use the underhanded methods he was now known for.

In this instance, though, with the help of his advisors, the current Minister had done so, and three out of the four other contenders had folded like in a bad poker game.

Regarding Scrimgeour, however, his advisors had been hard-pressed to find anything against him. They had invented false truths and forged documents related to them, but the man had sworn them off in each case. With magic, honesty was a deadly weapon in these duels, and it wasn't a weapon Fudge knew how to handle, nor how to deflect.

Browsing his data while smiling sweetly at his challenger, Fudge remembered something that he hadn't used yet. Pointing at Scrimgeour, he addressed the assembled reporters. "This man can't run for Minister!" he harangued. "He is perpetrating an illegal deed, even as we speak."

Scrimgeour sighed, and several journalists frowned at their current Minister in annoyance. It wasn't the first time the portly man had used empty arguments and threats. "What is it, now?" asked Scrimgeour.

Fudge looked at him with a smug expression. "You are an illegal Animagus!"

Scrimgeour sighed again, fishing a parchment from the stack in front of him. When it appeared that he wasn't answering immediately, Fudge turned to the crowd and opened his mouth to continue, but his tawny-haired challenger interrupted him. "You should update your data, Fudge."

"What? I'm..."

"I am a legal Animagus."

Fudge stuttered at the form Scrimgeour was holding. A form for Animagus registration, dated a few days ago. Another one of his attacks thwarted. Unless...

"It's a dangerous creature!" he exclaimed, wanting to play the crowd.

"Stop spouting nonsense, Fudge. You should know that Animaguses have nothing to do with werecreatures. We keep our human mind while in the animal shape."

"But... a lion!"

Scrimgeour frowned at him, anger lighting his yellowish eyes, and, for a brief moment, the persons around him had the feeling that he was actually a dangerous creature, ready to jump at Fudge's throat.

The man calmed quickly, though. "Even if I don't want to know who you bribed to have this information, I will only repeat what I told you: whether an Animagus transforms into an ant or an elephant, they keep their human mind, and are not considered dangerous creature."

Fudge opened and closed his mouth a few times, visibly struggling for words. "A lion?" he asked weakly.

"Yes, a lion!" Scrimgeour answered, and his previous anger made a fleeting comeback. "Now, do you have some other meaningless attack you wish to conduct on my being?"

Fudge lowered his eyes and consulted his folder again. "Your... your familiar is an Augurey?"

Scrimgeour rolled his eyes at the man's incompetence. "Yes. And, before you start of the rubbish about Augureys being dark creatures, know that recent studies proved that they are not."

"They are not?" the current Minister asked. "Aren't they messengers of d-"

"No, they are not." his challenger said, smirking. "Their cries predict rain, not death. As you can see, nothing related to the Dark Arts. Unless you wish to state that rain is a Dark Arts manifestation?"

The crowd sniggered at this, and Fudge blushed before lunging at his folder, desperate to find the smallest thing he could against the man.

They continued to spar for a couple hours, and Cornelius Fudge walked back to his office with a scowl, dismissing his low-level advisors on his way. Where was Derrick when he needed him? His most trusted advisor had disappeared right before the debate, and that had undermined the Minister's confidence. Scrimgeour had had Dumbledore and Flamel's support, while he only has his undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge. To try to compensate, he had drafted Arthur Weasley into it, but the man had been clearly reluctant.

Now, Fudge wanted to pass some last-minute decrees, and he needed Derrick badly: as any Department Head could countersign his decrees for immediate application in the Department's field, the man had often helped him during these last few months. Running the Ministry had started to be a very enjoyable job. And very lucrative, too.

Somehow, Fudge felt that it wasn't a job he was going to keep for long.

As he was entering his office, this feeling intensified when he noticed the two men sitting on the chairs on the visitor side of his desk.

---

Earlier, in Venice...

Harry looked at the masked man, stunned speechless.

The man looked back at him and smirked. "You are powerful, Mr Potter, and, unlike the one who brought pain and suffering in here, your goals are honourable, even though you can be ruthless. I feel your surprise, though."

"How?"

"How what? Unlike you, I'm not able to read minds, so you will have to be more precise."

That shocked Harry even more. Who was that man? Was he going to be a threat? He weighed his options, reflexively clenching his fists.

The man noticed, and his mask suddenly acquired an apprehensive expression. "Don't anger yourself, please. Don't be afraid, either. Your secret is safe with me."

"Who are you?" asked Harry.

"Ah, introductions." the man nodded. "After all, I know your name, and you don't know mine. You may call me Leonardo. And, in case you wonder, it's not my name."

"Then... why?"

"Because, like with the masks, no one here knows the name of anyone else – except oneself and one's parents, of course. To satisfy your interest, I'll just say that we have two sets of names. One is private and one is public."

It seemed to be consistent with the masquerade, and Harry nodded. "You will understand, then," he started, "that I'd rather not be called by my name."

"I understand, and I offer my apologies." the man said, and Harry could swear that the mask blushed a bit. "I needed to get your attention, though. Now that it is done, we can use another name for when you stay here."

Harry acquiesced thoughtfully, trying to find yet another name to build a persona upon.

Seeing the frowning expression, Leonardo spoke up again. "If I may give you an advice, I'd suggest Odysseus."

"Err... alright. Why?"

"It is the Greek name of the legendary man you might know as Ulysses. Like him, you have travelled many years. The name itself has hidden meanings, too: "man of wrath" according to the poet; in the Greek language, it can be translated as "the guide"; and it can also mean "the one inflicting and receiving pain" – in the sense that you'd receive pain as much as you'd inflict it. I feel that this last meaning is significant for you, especially regarding the link you had with your enemy."

Harry looked at him speechless for several seconds, before asking the important question. "How comes you know so much about me?"

The man smiled. "That should be a secret, but I sense your intention of prying that information from my mind-"

"I wouldn't-"

"Correction: you haven't yet. I know you would, if you feel threatened."

Harry looked at the man intently. "Should I?"

Leonardo answered by a stare of his own, although the mask enhanced it. After a moment, he sighed and turned back to look outside. "No, Odysseus." he said, and Harry marvelled at the ease with which the man had switched to his borrowed name – but he quickly reasoned that Leonardo was already used to this masquerade. "I will give you the reason, but I expect you not to divulge it to anyone." the man continued. "In the same way you are a mind reader, I am a soul reader."

"You read... souls?"

The man acquiesced thoughtfully. "Our usual term is soul weighing, but... yes. It allows me to know several things about you. Since I know you can read minds, I will open my mind to you so that you'll be confident that I'm not your enemy. I know you won't take... undue advantage... of your stay there."

Harry was stunned by the man's offer and he only superficially explored his mind. With a cursory glance there, he noticed that the man was indeed truthful and friendly. He wasn't even hiding things like his private life – not that Harry explored there, mind you. Once his quick exploration was finished, he sat down and nodded at the man.

"I am leading our people in the absence of a local doge, and that gift helped me immensely over time. An ancestor of mine gained it when... well, it's a long story already. I inherited the gift through my bloodline and my education, and I will have to train Saverio for him to be able to use it as well. My son." he explained, and Harry understood that he was referring to the boy he had seen in town.

"Why do you tell me all of this?" Harry asked. "I mean... you could have hidden the fact that you know my name, and I wouldn't have known."

"As I asked for your help, Odysseus, and as I know you prefer honesty, I preferred to come clear with that. On top of that, I happen to know that, even without the knowledge of our traditions, your enemy has taken ideas during his stay here."

"Which ideas? And why would you need my help?"

"The masks." Leonardo merely said, and Harry suddenly remembered the Death Eaters' usual garb. The man wasn't finished, though. "And I need your help in getting the current doge to come here so that he could appoint a new one, chosen in the magical population. That way, the magic would flow again, and the city would stop sinking."

"Venice... sinks?" asked a dumbfounded Harry.

"It had started when we shut ourselves out of the city's life, and the magical destruction brought forth by your enemy didn't help. The process slowed when we started patrolling the streets again, but we can't do much without the proper civic authority, and the regulations of 1372 still wear on us."

After a moment of silence, Harry nodded. "Alright. I'll do it. Is there a time better than another to bring the man in?"

"No, any time will do. And I thank you in advance."

Harry nodded again, before taking a look at his watch. He had left his friends for quite a long time already, and he knew that fetching the Minister of Magic wasn't going to be a piece of cake. Thinking of which... "Is the doge required to be willing to come?"

Leonardo seemed surprised at the question, before turning thoughtful for a few seconds. "I think that, if the man isn't willing to come to address the problems of the city, it doesn't matter if you bring him under duress or not." he then said. "As long as he's conscious."

Harry smirked and stood, ready to Apparate away.

"Wait!" the man exclaimed. "You might need to show credentials. Even if he's not agreeing, our traditions involve appearances more than anything else."

"What do you mean?"

"You will see right-" he started, before being interrupted by a door opening. "-now." he finished. "Heard everything, dear?"

The masked woman Harry had followed through Venice came in, followed by an elderly man. The man's age was showing through his stance, and even his mask showed age wrinkles. "After putting Saverio to bed for his nap, I heard just enough to recognize that you needed someone." the woman said.

"Galenus." Leonardo said, greeting the old man.

The addressed man looked at the soul-reader and nodded. "Leonardo." he wheezed. "Lisa has been unclear on the reason for my visit, only asking me to bring the birthing kit. Since she was up and about, I suppose you haven't produced another child yet."

"You are right, as usual." Leonardo said, before pointing to Harry. "Meet Odysseus. He is to be fitted."

The elder glanced toward the young man, and he stopped moving at once, the clear blue eyes of his mask appraising the cloaked figure. After a long pause, he spoke again. "It has been a long time." he whispered. "Neither my father nor my grandfather has fitted an adult."

"Err... what are you talking about?" Harry asked. "Is this... fitting... necessary?"

"Do not worry." Leonardo said. "It is to allow you free movement in the city. You might need it to fetch the doge and to come back. And, who knows, you might like the place."

"Is it... permanent?" asked Harry, his voice uncharacteristically high.

Galenus had been fetching things from his satchel, and he snorted, while Leonardo smiled. It was Lisa who answered, though. "It is, and it is not. In fact, as far as I know, it creates a magical veil that you can bring up and down on mental command."

"What about the portal?" Harry asked.

"He did remark it, didn't he?" Lisa said with a smile, looking at Leonardo. She looked back at Harry to answer. "Except during the Carnival, the portal issues the mental command for us so that we don't forget."

Galenus had finished preparing himself, and he addressed Harry directly for the first time. "I will need to work on your face, you know? And, for the mask to be accurate with your appearance and personality, you will have to be as open as possible."

Harry brought his hands to his hood, before stopping.

"Do not worry." Leonardo said. "I trust Galenus with my life. And, to respect your privacy, Lisa and I will wait next door." he finished, taking the hand of his surprised wife and exiting the room.

"What did the old coot mean?" the older man wheezed, clearly surprised at the turn of events.

Harry had caught several thoughts from Leonardo, and he knew that the man had left for him to feel safe enough to display his real face and identity – something which he now knew was essential to be "fitted" with a mask.

His face still hidden, he morphed back into his normal self before lowering his hood. The man in front of him looked perplexed, but he didn't say anything and started to work. While Galenus was applying a clear blue potion on a piece of white silk, Harry opened his mental barriers, ready to slam them closed the moment he'd feel something untoward.

After sticking the mask in place, the man invoked several charms, and Harry felt the mask "melt" on his face. He experienced a short bout of panic when he was unable to breathe for two seconds, but the mask finally settled, and he didn't feel it anymore.

"All done!" exclaimed the old man in his wheezy voice. "Here." he said, producing a mirror from his satchel. "To hide it and to bring it back, just think of the corresponding effect, and, if you concentrate enough, that should do the trick."

Harry looked, and, while the man was stowing his equipment away, he absently raised his Occlumency barriers back to their usual state. To his surprise, under his gaze, the mask changed until it was a pure and unblemished white. He briefly wondered about it, before remembering what had been said before. He then displayed a fake identity on the outskirts of his mental fortress, and the mask returned to its ornate state, although it was different. He then concentrated and succeeded in hiding it and bringing it on again.

"Well, Odysseus, I'm done- what?"

The old man had finished arranging his affairs and he was now looking at Harry, and he seemed surprised at finding a different mask than the one he had made. At the same moment, though, Leonardo and Lisa entered the room again.

"Well..." the man started, looking at the mask approvingly. "You have to say, Galenus, you haven't lost your touch."

"It's not my job." the elder said. "I know masks can change in the course of a man's life, but the mask I made was resolutely different from this one."

"I know, I know." Leonardo said, trying to appease the man.

"You know?" asked Galenus suspiciously, and the glimmer of understanding soon came to his eyes. "Of course... you would know."

The host acquiesced, before turning to Harry. "See what I mean? Not everybody here knows about my little secret. Galenus does."

The named man looked at him intently, his arms crossed on his chest. "I think we ought to have quite a lengthy conversation, oh young and enlightened one."

"We ought, now, ought we?" Leonardo answered cryptically, before turning to Harry again. "Don't worry about your secrets." he whispered.

Harry nodded, his peripheral Legilimency having caught the truthfulness behind the man's words. After taking his leave, he followed Lisa out of the room and across the town, to the portal they had used earlier. The two guards merely cast a glance at him and, seeing the mask, they returned to their stern stance.

Harry thanked Lisa, and passed the doorway.

At the exact same moment, two persons appeared in the middle of Leonardo's den, interrupting the conversation that was held there.

---

The doorway passed, Harry looked at his watch, and he noticed that it was late already. He idly wondered about his friends, and reflected that there was a way for him to meet them without seeking their whereabouts. After all, he knew their location at the precise moment he had started to follow the magical woman through Venice, a couple hours ago.

He was idly toying with the idea of using the Time Turner when another thought struck him: he had accepted Leonardo's mission, and he would have to bring the Minister here. He knew he had to act quickly, because, as the Daily Prophet indicated, the election for a new Minister was going to happen soon. He also knew he couldn't act right now because the Ministry was surely closed. He would have to wait until tomorrow, at the very least.

Unless...

The concept of travelling back into time came in his mind again, and he smiled. After a quick look around to check that no one was near, he extracted the silver hourglass medallion from under his shirt, and he turned the hourglass three times.

Like the last time he had used it, he felt himself dragged by an unseen force, as the scene around him seemed to move, and was, at the same time, not moving at all. It was quite unnerving, and, like last time, Harry paused for a few minutes afterwards, in order to catch his breath. As he was doing so, hidden in the gaseous reality, he noticed the little boy he now knew as Saverio exiting the portal alone and starting to wander around. He had half the mind of fetching him, but he knew he couldn't, as it would have disturbed the space-time continuum relative to his very presence here.

He let the boy run, and left towards England.

Once at the Ministry's Apparation point, he subjected himself to the customary identity check and wand weighing – he was going as Jerry Homest and used Flamel's wand – and headed towards the Minister's office. However, he was blocked at the entrance by the young assistant, who honestly told him that her boss wasn't there, and that reporters had to congregate in the debate room downstairs.

After fetching the room's location from her memories, he turned towards the door to leave. At that moment, though, his heightened senses picked a presence in the Minister's inner office. Several persons, in fact, and they all had ill intentions. Using his ring, he Stunned the assistant, and he quickly removed the previous seconds from her memories.

He then barged in the Minister's office and noticed that there were three people there, noisily rummaging through the office – the door had muted the sound – as if searching for something. They stopped right there and Harry had barely half a second to assess the situation before the Minister's armchair flew towards him.

Without any other option, he rolled on the floor and evaded the heavy seat, which crashed on the office door, slamming it shut. However, it appeared that the men he was fighting were cleverer than your usual Death Eater, and they continued to attack, casting spells without waiting for him to stand up again. Harry was hit by a Bone-Shattering curse and the Cruciatus, and, his thought processes barely overcoming the pain, he realized that he had to act quickly if he wanted to get out of there in one piece.

Internally cursing his lack of preparation – he could have drawn his bow, at least – he took advantage of a lull in the Cruciatus to leap over the desk and Apparated out in mid-jump, in a position that allowed him to see the whole room. The anti-Apparation wards were still there, of course, but he still could disappear from the tangible reality. He was simply stuck, motionless, in the solidified gaseous reality. He hadn't wanted to do that to escape the hurled armchair earlier, though, because that would have forced him to reappear in the midst of the now-broken piece of furniture – either splinching him or taking a long time to move the thing out of the way through partial Apparation.

His disappearance shocked the three men there, and they threw several spells toward him and around the office, but they didn't find anything. Harry was a bit miffed, however, to find that their destructive spells had broken the ceiling lighting, which was now hanging through him – preventing him from Apparating in quickly.

He pushed that particular concern to the side of his mind, and concentrated on the wizards' minds, starting by the weakest one. After complaining from a headache for a couple seconds, the wizard fell down, out for the count, his consciousness bound and gagged in a corner of his brain's command centre. When the second one started complaining as well, the third wizard – the one who, thanks to his imposing stature, had physically thrown the armchair earlier – realized that something was off, and he took something from his pocket just as the second man fell down. Turning his attention towards his last prey, Harry tried to freeze him mentally. The man had better defences around his mind, however, and he activated the portkey, disappearing from the ruined office just as Harry was battering his mental walls.

Harry's consciousness was thrown back in his own body and he swore, before taking hold of the second man's body. He made him repair the ceiling and its lighting fixtures with the all-purpose Repairing spell so that he could Apparate in again. A sharp pain reminded him of his wounds, and he used his medical knowledge and Metamorphmagus powers to heal himself. He then used Merlin's wand to magically repair the whole office in one go.

As he had some time to himself, he decided to dwell in the two minds there, concentrating on their identities and loyalties. He quickly discovered that the two captured men were Ministry workers who spied on their respective Department Heads, and who reported to Ursinus Derrick, the man who had just escaped. Derrick had enrolled them for a search mission in the Minister's office, but they didn't know exactly why: they had just been given the task to search for all documents about Harry Potter, Voldemort, and Egypt. Delving deeper in their memories, Harry extracted the content of several of these papers, and he realized that Derrick's goal was not only to gather information, but to remove it from the current Minister's view. Was it for blackmail purposes? To save his own skin should Fudge lose the election? To prevent the next Minister to have access to them? Harry didn't know and it annoyed him, and he decided to do something about Derrick as soon as possible.

Not wanting to let loose two uncontrolled spies in the Ministry, he carefully arranged their memories so that they wouldn't spy anymore. It was better than Obliviating them, because they wouldn't have missing memories, and other Legilimens wouldn't find a trace of the memory update. He also used a Stunner to keep them asleep while he released their consciousnesses from their bounds.

Reflecting about the slumber the men were in, he remembered the assistant next door, and he left to wake her, before escorting her out – the battle and his subsequent actions had lasted a couple dozen minutes, and her shift had ended already.

When he came back, he heard the Minister's angry voice as the man lashed on the two workers. Harry winced, and realized that the ordinarily pompous man was genuinely angry. He reflected that the debate mustn't have been a success and decided to step in. After all, the two workers didn't have a clue as to why they were there.

Harry summoned his mask, using Jerry Homest's personality to decorate it, before transfiguring his cape into a brilliant purple silk cloak with sparkling points enhancing it. He then entered the Minister's office, effectively cutting the man's rant mid-stride.

After several shocked seconds, Fudge reacted and addressed him. "Who are you?" he asked warily.

"My name has no meaning." Harry answered in a deep voice. "But you may call me Odysseus."

The Minister was still angry, and Harry was bringing him another target to pick on. "What kind of a name is that?" he demanded.

"I didn't say it was my name; just that you could call me that."

Fudge pinched the bridge of his nose. He was not in the mood for mind games. "Why are you here?"

Harry looked at the two men there, his mask severe, and they took the hint. Once they were gone, Harry closed the door and addressed Fudge again. "I'm here because you, as British Minister of Magic, have the position of Duke of Venice, Dalmatia, and Istria. It's something that has been negotiated behind our backs, something that needs to be corrected soon: since the position had been out of Venice, troubles have occurred, and we need the position to be given back to where it belongs."

"What do I have to gain?" the Minister asked, perking up at the possible profit.

"If you do so willingly, you will be remembered as someone who brought an end to several centuries of difficulties for the Venetian magical community."

"Willingly? Are you going to force me?" When Harry didn't answer, Fudge paled for a second, before turning red in anger. "How dare you! I'm the Minister of Magic! If I own your pathetic little town, I'll do as I please with it!"

"Very well." Harry calmly replied, slowly bringing his right arm out of the confines of his cloak.

"What?"

"Stupefy."

Harry looked as the man fell back in his armchair, and wondered why he always had to take the difficult path. Not being able to Apparate out of the building because of the wards, he dismissed his mask and cloak, before taking Fudge's appearance. This done, he retrieved the Minister's wand before shrinking him, so that he could put both in his pockets.

After a quick stroll through the Ministry, he arrived at the Apparation point and disappeared.

Several minutes later, he arrived near Venice, and, as he knew where to go, he passed through the invisibility ward and Apparated in Leonardo's den, interrupting the conversation that was held there.

"Odysseus?" asked Leonardo.

"The one and only." answered Harry. "I got what you asked."

"So soon? Where?"

Harry nodded, before producing the unconscious and shrunk Minister from his pocket. He enlarged and revived him, and Fudge shot up, still angry. He soon calmed himself, though, when he noticed that he wasn't in his office anymore. And three of these masked persons were looming over him.

"Wha... you Death Eaters!" the man exclaimed. "I'll... I'll..." he stuttered, patting himself frantically.

"Searching for your wand, Minister?" Harry asked. "I'll give it back on one condition."

"The British Minister of Magic does not negotiate with dark wizards." Fudge said pompously. After a couple of seconds, however, he seemed to deflate. "I mean... you aren't dark wizards, right?" he asked, but the others didn't answer and he sighed. "Very well. What do you want?"

Leonardo had been arranging his desk during the exchange, and he addressed the portly man. "For the magical community in Venice to thrive, and for the town itself to survive, it is necessary that you relinquish your position as Doge. You only have to copy, in your blood, the letter that I prepared for you." he finished, handing him a sheet of parchment. It was short and to the point.

I, Cornelius Oswald Fudge, current Minister of Magic of Britain and thus current Doge of Venice, hereby relinquish the position of Doge to Leonardo, Vittore Alighieri.

Done on August 24th, in year 1425 since the Founding of Venice.

Fudge looked at the missive in wonder, before frowning. "What is this?" he asked.

Harry snorted, having intercepted the man's thoughts. "You didn't even know?" he asked. Actually, it was to inform the two Venetians of his discovery more than to confirm a hunch.

"Who's that Leonardo? And what is this Dog thing-?" Fudge started, but Galenus interrupted, his wheezing voice clearly indignant at the man's rudeness.

"It's Doge!"

"Leonardo is right here." Harry said, pointing at the man. "Just do it." he finished with an annoyed expression.

"Or what?" Fudge asked shrewdly. "After all, if I understand correctly, this is a position of power."

The three men looked at each other briefly, and Harry approached the pompous Minister. "Leonardo asked you gently, thinking that you would be kind to do it in order to keep peace and order in the city. Now, if you refuse, I have other means of persuasion."

Fudge looked at the mask in apprehension. During Harry's short speech, his external personality had changed, and the mask was now an ominous face looking as though it was sculpted in obsidian – except that it wasn't immobile. "All right, all right." he finally relented, and took the proffered knife and cup to get a sample of his own blood.

A couple of minutes later, the letter was finished, and Galenus countersigned it to acknowledge his presence as witness of the event.

While the magic involved in the change of ruler took place, Harry quickly Stunned the Minister again, so that he'd be able to displace him quickly later. He was then profusely thanked by the two Venetian wizards, and he noticed that Leonardo's countenance was even more commanding than before. As if the people's ranks was shown by their outside appearance.

"I can't express the gratitude I have toward you, Odysseus." Leonardo was saying, while Galenus nodded along. "The townspeople will be glad for Venice to be strengthened by the old laws again. To thank you properly, I will start by giving you this."

The man extended an empty hand, and, after a moment of concentration, the magic linked to the position created a ring in his outstretched hand. A platinum ring with a winged lion etched on it. "Take this." he said. "It's a signet ring for the old Venetian Knighthood, the Cavalieri di San Marco. It has the side effect of allowing you to get anything you wish from the local merchants, for free." he raised his hand when he noticed that Harry, after putting the ring next to his phoenix ring, was now trying to remove it, presumably to give it back. "Keep it! I know you won't take undue advantage of it, so I'm not worried about giving it to you. Don't worry about losing it either: now that you have put it on your finger, it's linked to your blood, and will deteriorate if put on someone else's." Leonardo then looked at Harry intently before adding "I know you might be involved in other affairs, so, as the Doge and Head of the Knighthood, I hereby allow you to join other Knightly Orders. If you can, though, I'd like you to be here on September 15th for the first meeting of our Knighthood in a long time."

As Leonardo finished, Galenus approached Harry. "I don't have the power of a Doge, but I want to express my thanks too."

"Really," Harry started, "there's no need to-"

"I insist. And, given how you are able to modify the mask, I feel it will be interesting for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Your mind must be very focused, because the mask takes its aspect from the wearer's mind. If one was to wear such a kind of mask on their whole body, it would allow them to change their clothes with just a thought. Do you want to try it?"

"Yes, but... what about my other clothes?"

"As you might notice, or not, I have glasses, hidden by the mask, and a hood over it. Likewise, the magic of the garment will allow you to wear it over or under selected pieces of garment you might have already or don afterwards. Are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"What do you mean?"

"Were you reflecting about armour?"

"Armour?"

"Yes. The magical garment I'm talking about is highly resistant and can even be morphed into metal armour, but you might like to wear a real set of armour on top of it. Or under it. It could be useful to wear a top-of-the-range metal plate armour over it, for instance."

Harry shook his head noncommittally, impressed about the gift but also sad that the man didn't have a clue about the military progresses that had been made in the muggle world since three centuries. Metal plate armours were just not top-of-the-range anymore. Nevertheless, he knew that the thing would be very useful, and he thanked Galenus abundantly. The old man repeated his own thanks and headed out, telling him that he was going to work on the materials, and that the cloak would be ready the next day.

After thanking the old man once again, Harry asked Leonardo if he could bring friends the next day. The new Doge answered him that, as he was now Knight of the town, he would be able to vouch for anyone entering with him, as long as he accompanied them all the time, and with the provision that they would be masked.

After taking his leave, Harry grabbed the prone body of the Minister of Magic and Apparated back to England. He unceremoniously dropped the portly man in his office, before slightly modifying his memories. This done, he revived him from the doorway and headed out.

He then returned to Venice and, after turning back the time again, he finished the day with his friends. When Tracey asked about his findings and about the ring at his finger, he told her to wait for the next day – after all, in this timeframe, even if Harry had the ring, Leonardo wasn't Doge yet.

---

That evening, they all lounged in the hotel contentedly. They soon started retelling stories, and, when it was Bill's turn, the young man unknowingly chose to relate an anecdote that would interest Harry's closest friends.

"I don't know if you remember what I did, three years ago, but-"

Fred snorted, interrupting the tale. "All we know, brother dear-"

"-is that you break curses in Egypt for Gringotts-" George continued.

"-but we still wonder-"

"-why you stopped." they finished together.

"Ah, well..." Bill said, frowning. "I don't know."

"You don't know, dear?" Molly Weasley asked. "I hope they didn't fire you! I warned you, you know."

Bill looked at her inquiringly. "What do you mean, mum?"

"That earring and hair cut – or lack thereof, rather – had to earn you troubles. You want help? My friend Darcy owns a beauty salon, you know, and-"

"Mum!" came the indignant cry from all the young redheads in attendance, and the bustling woman stopped her rant.

Bill sighed. "It has nothing to do with this. In fact, I'm not even fired. It's just that I received an enormous salary last Christmas, and I don't even know why. That's why I chose to spend some quality time with my family."

Molly Weasley blushed at the underlying praise, but her blush receded when she thought about his preceding words. The whole Weasley family was sending Bill enquiring but concerned gazes at that point. "It was nothing illegal, at least?" Molly asked.

"I don't think so." he answered. "All I remember is my Goblin boss giving me the check with a smile. If he gave it to me, it's surely legal. And if he smiled that way, he must have made a hefty percentage on it."

Hearing this, Harry thought that he should help him recover his memory. And, judging by the sideways glance Ron and Ginny were throwing him, he wasn't alone thinking that way.

Bill shook himself awake. "Anyways, that was not what I wanted to tell you about."

"Sorry." interrupted the twins at the same time, but the mischievous glint in their eyes told him otherwise.

"Right. Well... there I was, checking out after a day of research, when I met someone."

Harry stifled a snort when he noticed Hermione's expression at the word "research". A particular redhead didn't have the same level of control, however. Bill glared as Ron had interrupted his storytelling. "What?" the younger sibling said when he noticed the stare. He quickly recognized the reason why almost everyone was looking at him. "Oh. Sorry." he said, blushing.

"Do you remember last year's articles in the Daily Prophet?" Bill asked. When he noticed the looks around him, he realized that they had no idea of which article he was talking about, and he elaborated. "About Harry Potter."

Harry, sitting next to Tracey, was toying with her hair when his name was pronounced. He looked up sharply and noticed that he wasn't the only one to do so.

Bill, however, was oblivious of the real reason behind the reaction of several members of his audience. "In the interview, he said that he travelled in several countries of the mid-east."

"What's the link?" asked Percy.

"I'm coming to it. So, here I was, after a day of work, and there's a boy looking in wonder at the temple of Ra in Luxor – that's in Egypt, Ron. Since there are ages-old wards around some of these magical temples, I knew the boy was magical and I tried to chat with him a bit. Retrospectively, I think I taught him a bit of vocabulary of the wizarding world."

Bill fell silent for a couple seconds, and Harry thought 'That you did, indeed.'

"What does it have to do with Harry Potter?" Ron enquired.

"He told me his name was Harry."

"And you jumped to the conclusion that he was Harry Potter, the boy sought after by the most powerful wizards around... how?" asked Percy.

"Well... it's just a hunch, you know." Bill replied. "There are not that many occidental boys of that age travelling alone in a valley of magically concealed temples. And he told me he was "on the road", something he repeated in the article."

"Still... it's a bit far-fetched, don't you think?" Molly asked.

Bill looked down. "There's a bit more. When I was leading him toward the parking lot-"

"The what?" Ginny asked.

"The place where muggles park their cars." he answered, before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where was I?"

After a hesitant look at Harry, Ron answered. "You were leading him toward the... park."

"Yes. Well, I felt a surge of magical power around me."

"It might have been anything!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Yes, but I checked later with the project leader, and no wizard was in the vicinity at that moment, except the two of us. No charm either, I checked. The surge being quite powerful, I recently reflected that it might have been... him."

"That's all?" asked Percy. When Bill nodded, Percy counted on his fingers. "You found a boy who had the required age, was alone and said he travelled around a lot, and whose given name is Harry. You felt an unknown surge of power. Do I sum it up appropriately?" he enquired with a smug smile, while passing his arm around his girlfriend.

Bill looked at him with an angered gleam in his eyes. He opened his mouth to rant at his pompous brother when a thought came to him. "That's not all. The boy said he was coming back the next day, and he didn't show himself. No one had seen him around the town after that day. However, several strange events were recounted by my colleagues, two of which had sufficient backing to be believed."

"What is it?" Harry asked, now genuinely interested.

"The town's police caught a near-whole sect of Hashishins – it's a sect of killers – next to a dead wizard, a few days later. Once prodded, they said the dead man had asked them to kill him, but I don't see anyone ordering his own suicide. A few days later, the last members of the sect were caught and, when shown the dead wizard, they recognized him and told the policemen their version of the story. It seems that the man has asked them to kill a boy, actually. Despite several shooting witnessed, there was no trace of that particular boy later."

Bill paused to catch his breath, before continuing. "I only heard about the second event right after I started my sabbatical. The local Unspeakables were called because of a rumour concerning a demon, but they only confirmed that it wasn't anything else than that: a rumour. However, I have been told that the memories of some of the desert-dwelling tribesmen included a boy able to fight better than a grown man. It appears that he fought for the right to pass through the desert, with the life of his companions on the line. And when I enquired about his appearance, my colleagues confirmed that it was the same boy than I met. I don't think it can be anyone else than Potter. Which other 10-year old boy could have taken take on a 250-pound opponent with bare hands?"

Harry was hearing this for the first time, and, despite being a bit miffed at having left tracks of his passage, he was now more annoyed at his friends' reaction. Fred and George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Tracey were all looking at him with varied expressions ranging between awe and anxiety.

'Turn around, please. Now.' he mentally sent, and they jumped before complying. Fred and George looked at each other, while Ron's gaze returned to Bill. Tracey and Ginny looked around aimlessly, and Hermione's gaze focused on her right shoe.

In the meantime, however, Harry had caught a name he had heard already, although it was a long time ago. As Bill had finished his tale, he cleared his throat and addressed him. "Bill? You spoke about a temple of Ra..."

"Yes, why?"

"I heard about a magical artefact called the Eye of Ra, once. Do you happen to know what it is?"

The question sent Bill into a short trance-like state, his eyes turning glassy for a couple of seconds. For everyone else, the man was gathering his memories to answer, but Harry recognized the pattern with his peripheral Legilimency: Bill was searching his memories frantically, knowing that data was there but not finding it. With a start, Harry understood that whatever answer Bill would give him was tainted by a memory charm.

"All I know is that it's a eye-like sign, sometimes called the Eye of Horus instead. I thought I knew more about it, but I seem to have forgotten about it."

Harry sensed an opening and he mentally warned Tracey before speaking up again. "I can help you with that. Have you ever been hypnotized?"

Right on cue, Tracey jumped up and, acting cheery, she clapped her hands together. "Oh, yes! Hypnosis! Cousin Harvey is a specialist of this thing."

"What is it?" Bill asked.

"It helps you find memories you thought you forgot." Hermione interjected, having noticed the exchange. "It is the muggle equivalent of a memory restoration charm."

Ron's eyes widened in bewilderment. "Muggles can do that?" he asked.

"I didn't say it worked all the time!" Hermione defended. "There are people firmly believing that it works, though." she finished, her tone firmly telling that she wasn't one of them.

"Alright." Bill interrupted. "I don't think it will work, but we can give it a try."

While Tracey was directing Bill so that the man was sitting comfortably, Harry took his locket necklace off his neck. He then moved it back and forth in front of him, speaking the words one could hear from any would-be hypnotiser.

"Bill, you are going to focus on my voice... Listen to it attentively... Imagine that it's your lifeline... that it will keep you safe... You are feeling relaxed, now, holding to my voice... Forget everything else... You are so relaxed that you could be sleeping..."

Carrying on speaking like that, Harry entered the man's mind. There, he quickly jumped over the barricade and found himself in Bill's mind. After several seconds of exploring it, he found the spot that had been updated. To Harry, who has some experience in dealing with minds, it seemed as though Bill had been the target of an Obliviation spell. The spell was known to remove specific memories, and possibly update others if it was cast with enough focus. On Bill, however, it seemed that the focus hadn't been perfect, because memory bits were resting around a small crater, where the original memory must have been standing.

Harry collected them, and he realized a few things: Bill had worked for unidentifiable dark wizards, opening the way into ages-old ruins, and he had witnessed a dark wizard Levitating the Eye of Ra so as to serve as entrance point to the temple-fortress of Wadjet. Nothing else remained, and Harry now knew why the young man had been paid so much. Harry didn't have to ask about the significance of Wadjet, though: it was already the name of his cobra, and he knew it was the name of the Egyptian goddess of snakes.

A temple dedicated to snakes...

Remembering his visions, Harry gasped. Bill's employer had been Voldemort! It was lucky that the red-haired man was still alive and well, to start with. With reason, he suspected that, should Bill have worked as a freelance Charm Breaker and not with the Goblins, things would have been different.

He looked at Tracey and Hermione, who were looking at him inquiringly already, and a flow of thoughts travelled back and forth. The two girls stepped back, and Harry threw a privacy charm around him and Bill.

"What is it?" Bill asked. Even relaxed a bit – mainly through his comfortable position and Harry's voice – he had noticed Harry's gasp and the charm.

"I have to tell you things that have to stay private."

"What do you mean? Did the hypnosis work?"

"Quite, yes. I now know why you got paid so much, but it's not something you will want to repeat..."

Bill straightened up. "I'm ready."

Harry looked at him appraisingly and noticed the man's strength of character. 'Interesting.' he thought, 'If he stomachs this one, I should ask him to join me. He has already met me once, after all.' He then recounted his findings, and, truth be told, Bill paled at the mention of his work for Voldemort. He knew how the Goblins worked, though, and knew that it wasn't possible for him to attack his employer against this. After all, the evil man hadn't hired him personally, using one of his underlings to deal with the Goblins.

After a couple of minutes of pause, Harry spoke again. "I didn't search for that information, but do you know the location of that temple? I might visit it someday and bring some friends."

"No. I'm sorry, but I don't remember it." Bill replied, frowning at the reminder of having been Obliviated. "Now that I know about it, however, I could search in the Goblin library in Thebes. It has the most comprehensive work about magical temples and tombs in Egypt."

Harry acquiesced, thankful of the man for offering his help without being asked.

"Alright, then." Bill said, straightening up. "I'll owl you whenever I find something."

"Err... I think it'd be better to owl the post office of Diagon Alley instead." Harry said, working up an excuse as he went. "I work in a muggle hospital, and I'd rather not receive owls there."

The young man nodded, and Harry dispelled the privacy charm. To Bill's surprise, nobody asked him about the time he had just spent in hypnosis. He quickly realized, though, that it was because they were quite taken by the youngsters' recounting of Hogwarts' everyday life. Not noticing the understanding glance between Harry and them, he sat down and enjoyed the storytelling.

---

After a good night of rest, Harry gathered his closest friends and told them about his findings concerning the magical part of Venice. Granting their request to visit the place, he used his knighthood ring to vouch for them at the magic portal. To appear even more genuine, he had also donned a crimson cape transfigured from a paper napkin – he had been said that it was the colour of those knights whose order he now belonged to.

The small group spent a couple of hours exploring the wizarding location. It wasn't large, but they found some interesting shops and other places to visit. Sure, these weren't many tourist-oriented businesses, given that they were the first tourists in almost two centuries. And, consequently, the first modern-era tourists ever. They gained the attention of several townspeople, but Harry's crimson robe prevented hostility towards his friends.

After a while, Harry went to the new Doge's apartments, where he introduced his friends to Leonardo. Galenus was there, too, and he gave him the garment he had been preparing, explaining him how it worked. At the same time, Leonardo was looking at Harry's friends intently, and, to everyone's surprise, he offered them Venetian citizenship as well. Galenus complained good-naturedly about it, before explaining that the citizenship came with a mask from him. Harry knew that Leonardo was gifted to be a good judge of character, and it reinforced his devotion to his friends. A short moment later, the five friends left the magical place in a thoughtful mood. After all, the mischief-making possibilities given by the masks were quite numerous, if not endless.

The whole family disappeared with Harry a couple hours later. After leaving the Prewetts in France, Harry also brought the Weasley back to the Burrow. He then deposited Tracey in Newcastle, before heading to Hogwarts for the last week of holidays. He knew that Tracey wouldn't be alone, though: he had decided to use the Time Turner to repeat the days he spent at Hogwarts with her.

---

Wadjet's temple, at the same time...

In the meeting room, numerous Death Eaters were assembled around Voldemort, chanting the incantation with him. There was only one of them not chanting: Snape. The greasy-haired ex-Potion professor had learnt about being thrown out of Hogwarts and had, since then, invested himself in his Potion Master's tasks for Voldemort. Contrarily to Dumbledore, the Dark Lord had given him apprentices to actually make the simpler potions, and Snape had started to research more powerful potions to be used by Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

That's why the man was not chanting: he was busy adding ingredients and turning the ladle appropriately, while his brethren and their master added power in the potion.

When the incantation was finished, Snape turned the fire out, and, as if on cue, four members of Voldemort's Inner Circle approached: Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, Lucius Malfoy, and Rodolphus Lestrange. Snape measured the appropriate doses and handed them out – there could only be four doses per brewing, and they had to be consumed immediately. As requested, the four men drank the potion and stepped back, conscious that everyone's gaze was fixed on them.

It was an experimental potion, and reacted as such: unpredictably.

Dolohov screamed his voice off, and grabbed at his own face frantically. In front of the surprised Death Eaters, the man scratched his skin and clawed his eyes out before Snape was able to stop him with a strong Stunner.

Right afterwards, Rookwood winced suddenly, and brought his hands to his belly in a desperate manner. Snape didn't have to Stun him, though, as the man crumbled to the floor in an undignified and unconscious heap. However, as he was doing so, several Death Eaters gasped as the man's skin and hair went from their usual pallid tinge to the opposite of the spectrum: pitch black. Snape prodded the blackened skin, but it was just that: normal skin.

Witnessing the two others' reaction to the potion, Malfoy had paled dramatically, but nothing seemed to happen. When he was sure of it, he shrugged. But he didn't recover his normal complexion, staying white as a sheet.

Like Malfoy, Lestrange didn't seem to react to the potion for several seconds. He suddenly raised his hand to his face, though, looking at it curiously. In front of the surprised assembly, the hand now had impressive claws. Lestrange's body continued to change, growing out of his clothes and shredding them in the process. The final result was a creature mid-way between a man and an unknown feline. It had the feet of a man, keeping him upright, while the legs were bent like a cat's. The torso, arms, and hands were of a man, while the claws were those of a large feline. The head was the most disturbing sight, showing a mix of feline and human features. The creature was also displaying a reddish fur, and it was towering over the others, reaching the impressive height of seven feet and a couple of inches.

It was not a werewolf, not at all, but it was definitely a lethal creature worthy of the late Fenrir Greyback.

"Rodolphus?" a voice asked, and the creature that was Rodolphus Lestrange looked at the person calling him. It was his wife, Bellatrix, and she was looking at a particular part of his anatomy which, despite the fur, was clearly visible thanks to the lack of clothes. She licked her lips as the interest of the beast was clearly roused, and Rodolphus acted accordingly.

In one bound, he was next to her, and, in two, he was at the door, Bellatrix squealing in delight in his powerful arms.

"That's... an interesting development." Voldemort hissed, before turning his attention to Malfoy. "Nothing?"

"Now that you ask, my lord, I feel... hungry."

"Hungry for what?" asked Snape, his wand trained on the man.

Lucius Malfoy's gaze went to the wand, then to the man holding it, before turning towards the assembled Death Eaters, seeming to search for something. When he found it, he smiled, and several people gasped. The man had grown fangs equivalent to those of a vampire. The person he was looking at started to tremble in apprehension.

"Step forward!" Voldemort ordered, and the person – clearly a woman – reluctantly obeyed. However, when Malfoy approached her – stalked her, actually –, she lost her countenance and took a couple of steps backwards. Snape reacted immediately and, after half a second of hesitation between Stunning her and putting her under a full body bind on her, he chose the latter.

Malfoy ripped the woman's mask and revealed a young face, belonging to a new recruit from the Ministry.

"What is it that you like in her?" asked Snape, eager for information about his potion.

"She's pure... Despite the Mark, she's untainted. I hunger for it."

"Are you a virgin?" Snape asked the girl, dumbfounded.

The fear in her eyes was almost palpable, and was the only answer Snape needed. After that, the girl wouldn't answer anything or anyone, Malfoy having lunged on her. Like a vampire, he was feasting on her blood, and the other Death Eaters stood there, shocked.

When Malfoy released her dead body, everyone had a second shock. The girl's body had wilted, to the point of it being barely recognizable. And the man had changed as well. He was a bit taller, and his hair and eyes had lightened: instead of the previous grey-streaked blond hair, he was now sporting purely white hair and eyes. He looked around, and the people nearest to him shuddered at his unnaturally white eyes.

"How do you feel?" Snape asked.

"Better. Still hungry, but I can wait, now. More powerful, though. I have absorbed her, it seems."

"Completely? Are you controlled by her?"

"Me, controlled by that girl?" Malfoy retorted with his trademark sneer in place, startling more than one person there. Since his imprisonment, the man hadn't smiled, but he seemed to have recovered, thanks to his... snack. After that exclamation, there was no doubt about his sanity either.

"That's interesting as well." Voldemort commented, his hissing voice stilling the room as was customary. "Especially since there will be many virgins at your disposal soon."

Malfoy understood immediately. As a member of the Inner Circle, he was privy to the Dark Lord's plans, and knew that a whole train of pure virgins was awaiting him in a few days. All those witches' power, added to his own... it was almost in sensual pleasure that he groaned his impatience.

Voldemort noticed this and the corners of his scaly mouth lifted, in a manner of a smile. It was a scary sight, but Malfoy knew his master, now, and, startled out of his reverie, he smiled as well.

---

Three days later...

Diagon Alley was under the usual back-to-school rush of the last week-end of August. Followed by anxious parents, students of all ages crowded the shops, especially Madam Malkin's and Flourish and Blotts. Other shops were visited, of course: the Apothecary got the visit of each student to buy or refresh Potion kits, but the students didn't stay in the smelly shop. Conversely, while not selling anything from the list of customary school supplies, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and Quality Quidditch Supplies saw many students stop by and discuss.

On top of the student bustle, the adult wizards and witches were discussing the upcoming election.

The election was held in two phases. That Saturday, every adult witch and wizard who wanted to vote could send a specially-formulated message to the members of the Wizengamot they thought were representing their ideas. The next day, the wizarding ruling group would congregate to elect the Minister, based on the wishes of the members and the number of votes they had received from the general public.

Diagon Alley was bustling with people talking about the election. Some muggleborns wondered how it was possible to have a fair vote by sending one's wishes to several Wizengamot members. Most of the conversations, however, were including comparisons between Fudge and Scrimgeour and questions about why the other contenders removed themselves from the game early. Judging by the conversations, it would have been a bad idea for Fudge to take a stroll in the magical street, that day.

In the crowd, Harry's current shape – Harvey Jefferson, a broad-shouldered adult – was an asset, as he was able to drag his friends through the sea of people bustling in the magical place. That allowed them to finish their shopping relatively quickly – despite Hermione spending a whole hour in the bookshop and Ron spending the same time looking at the newly-released broom in awe. The Firebolt prototype that was on display attracted each and every student interested in Quidditch in general.

When Harry and his other friends succeeded in dragging Ron out of there, the boy was gushing about the broom's properties. As they entered Fortescue's and sat at one of the few tables available, he was still going on.

"...and it's the fastest broom on the market! It's a racing broom, in fact, and it can speed up to 150mph in 10 seconds!"

"Ron..." Hermione began.

The boy ignored her, though. "They adapted it to Quidditch only recently, and there's plenty of charms on it, even a Braking Charm. On has to have one, you know, because, at 150mph, you have to strike something or someone on the Pitch, and-"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to stop the boy's outburst.

"-there's nothing that... What?" Ron asked, finally noticing Hermione's annoyed face.

Restraining herself from ranting at his obsession – especially because she knew that it wasn't the wisest thing to do – she pointed at the ice cream counter. "As we asked you three times already, what do you want?"

"A Firebolt." he immediately answered, before blushing, realizing what the question was about. "Sorry. Chocolate."

Hermione nodded and headed to the counter while Ron was continuing repeating the Firebolt data sheet over and over, although it was more to himself now.

When Hermione came back from the counter, she was noticed by a couple at a nearby table. Consequently, as she reached the table, Neville joined them, followed by a girl whom he was holding hands with. A girl the Gryffindors recognized immediately.

"Katie?" asked the Weasley twins in surprise.

"Hi all." she answered, a broad smile on her face.

"Can we join you?" Neville enquired.

When they all nodded, the two fetched their chairs and ice creams and took place. It was a little cramped, but they were all in good company and didn't care.

"Well, Neville, there's something you'd like to tell us?" Fred asked with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

The addressed boy smiled and raised the hand he was using to hold Katie's. "I think you figured it out already."

"Aren't you afraid that some people might see your relationship badly?" asked George.

Katie looked at him with a wicked gleam. "Well... if some people wanted to declare themselves, it's too late, now."

"Besides," Neville continued, "if some people think that a couple pranks will make me change my mind, they are quite mistaken. I'm in love with her." he said, his arm encircling Katie's shoulders. That declaration and move made some of the girls look at her in envy, while some of the boys looked at Neville with newfound respect. At their age, it wasn't an easy thing to declare oneself and Neville seemed to have been the first. Who'd have guessed?

Under the table, Tracey's hand reached out and grabbed Harry's. When he looked into her eyes, she squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. Not a word was exchanged, but the two of them knew that they would have a private discussion soon. Without onlookers.

George held his hands up. "Alright, alright! I wasn't speaking about myself, though. I have another target in mind."

"Speaking of whom," Katie interrupted, "you should ask Alicia out soon."

While George was stunned speechless, Fred saw an opportunity for their usual bouts of mischief. "Hey! Alicia's mine!"

"No, Fred. She's George's." Katie simply said, making the other twin speechless as well. After all, how could she recognize them when they tried so much to look the same?

"How... how do you know?" George asked.

"After spending two years in Quidditch practises with you, you didn't think I haven't caught little differences between you?"

"I wasn't talking about that." the same George stated, blushing a little.

Neville looked at him, and then at Katie, and he leaned over to whisper something in her ear.

"Oh... right." she replied, before turning towards the twins again. "Well... promise you won't tell?" she asked. When they nodded mutely, the others being surprised that Katie had disciplined them that easily, said Katie spoke again. "Your feelings might be returned."

"Mine?" they both asked at the same time.

Katie smirked. "Yes." she answered, without elaborating.

After several seconds of shock, and a shared look, Fred and George shot to their feet.

"What are you doing?" asked Ginny. "Mum's due any minute, now."

"Scr- urgh, I just didn't think that." Fred started.

"We're going to explore the Alley." George said.

"Yeah. Explore the Alley. That's it."

Harry had listened to the exchange with a smile on his face. Now that the twins were broadcasting thoughts of seeking Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson – the two Gryffindor Chasers beside Katie – he mentally swept the surroundings for the girls, and found them nearby. Alicia was in Madam Malkin's shop, and Angelina was, unsurprisingly, in the Quidditch shop. However, Mrs Weasley was nearby also, heading to the ice cream parlour. When Harry warned the twins about it, before giving them the girls' locations, they jumped in surprise, before thanking him the same way. With a broad grin, they headed towards the lavatory just as their mother was entering the place, and exited the shop just when she was reaching the crowded table.

"Ah. There you are." she said, eyeing the people around the table. "But... where are the twins?"

While Ron and Ginny didn't trust themselves to lie to their mother, Harry didn't have such problems.

"They just left." he said. "Said they missed something at Gambol and Japes. They'll be back soon, eventually."

Molly Weasley seemed ready to burst in anger at her sons' behaviour, but she just huffed before taking the place vacated by the twins. "Yes... eventually." She then looked at the people around the table more attentively. Harry was still in his Harvey Jefferson's shape, and, knowing him from Venice, she exchanged small talk with him for a few seconds, before noticing Neville and Katie. "Well, hello there. Who are you? Wait a second... I know you... You are Frank and Alice's son, aren't you? Netown, it is?"

"Neville, Mrs Weasley." the boy answered. "Neville Longbottom." he said softly, seeming to have recovered his shyness suddenly.

"Ah, yes. Now that you say it, I remember Ron talking about you in his letters at some point. You're in the same dormitory, that's it?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm sorry for you parents, Neville. I knew them, of course, they were the best..." she trailed off, her eyes gaining a faraway look.

Neville had blushed and didn't answer immediately. A few seconds later, he seemed to overcome his nervousness and coughed. "They are fine, thank you, Mrs Weasley. Can I present you my girlfriend, Katie Bell?"

The conversation rolled forward from that point, but Harry and his friends shared a pointed look. Neville had moved the topic away from his parents in quite a sudden fashion, and they suspected that something was afoot. Or had been. In fact, the conversation hadn't given them hints about whether Neville's parents were alive or dead.

Even if he had done so numerous times in the past, Harry wasn't sure that invading the boy's mind to get information about his parents was really moral. While he was weighing his options, Mrs Weasley stood up and greeted someone. Two someones, in fact. The first was a tall wizard, with straggly blond hair and slightly protuberant eyes. He wore his robe the inside out, but it didn't seem to disturb him in the least. The second person there was a young teenaged witch, with the same dreamy expression and dishevelled hair – although hers was longer. And she was wearing radishes as earrings.

Ron looked at Ginny and they nodded to each other before turning back to the table with an air of long suffering. Finding it curious, Harry addressed them.

"What is it?"

Ron looked at him, then at the strange pair, then back at him. "The Lovegoods."

"...and?"

The red-haired boy looked around, before pointing at his own forehead. Harry understood, and he retrieved the memory Ron provided him. The Lovegoods, indeed. Xanthippe Lovegood and his daughter Luna. They lived in Ottery St Catchpole, not far from the Weasleys. Alhana Lovegood, Luna's mother, was dead. She had been experimenting with spells, and one of these went wrong and killed her. Actually, no one knew exactly what happened, except that Luna had been found staring at remains that were later identified as belonging to her mother.

As Mrs Lovegood had been a distant relative to Mrs Weasley, the red-haired woman had generously taken upon herself to help them, going there a few times a month and inviting them home as well, and that's how Ron and his siblings knew about them.

Harry was busy sorting the new memories when he suddenly felt that he was observed. Raising his eyes, he found the silvery grey ones of the girl, Luna, looking right at him. She cocked her head to the side and looked at him inquiringly for a few seconds, before walking towards him.

"Have you seen the vampires?" she asked.

"Huh?" was his intelligent answer.

"Don't they say "Vampire: the Masquerade" in the Muggle world?"

"Err..." was all Harry could produce. A couple of seconds later, seeing that the girl was actually waiting for an answer, he shook himself awake and tried to give her a more intelligible one. "I don't know. Why?" he asked back.

"I heard it somewhere – quite recently, in fact – when a group of friends played some game of theirs." she answered. "They even said that I would be a good Malkavian. But they didn't have the masks, and I figured that it was only a figurative way of playing with figurines. When they started playing with "Werewolf: the Apocalypse", I left them."

Unperturbed by the others' troubled glances, she looked at them in quick succession, her gaze resting on Neville last.

"What?" the boy asked.

"You are sad. The king of the fairies can help you."

Hermione snorted. "The fairies don't have a king! They are-"

"Are you sure?" asked Luna, looking at her Housemate with wide eyes.

"Of course I'm sure. It's only a character in a muggle opera!"

"Hermione Granger, right?" Luna asked. "I noticed you last year: you work much harder than the others." she said, the praise making the bushy-haired girl go red. Her blush receded quickly with Luna's next sentence, though. "People used to believe the fairy king doesn't exist, but he does. Like the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, for instance."

"What's a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" Ron asked, genuinely curious.

Tracey snorted lightly and answered with an amused smile. "Sounds like a Snorkack, but with crumpled horns."

"Exactly!" Luna exclaimed, smiling widely. "Have you seen one? They say they migrate in the forests of Sweden. Did you go there recently?"

Hermione huffed. "There's no such... There's nothing about that in the Hogwarts Library!" she exclaimed, rather forcefully.

Harry was observing the exchange, and realized that Luna might just be true. In the few minutes he had known her, she had demonstrated a curious insight about things, and he realized that not having proof of something didn't mean that it didn't exist. He also knew that wizards and witches raised in the muggle world should be aware of it more than the other wizarding families. After all, after being told that magic didn't exist, finding oneself in Hogwarts ought to be an eye-opening experience. It seemed that Hermione had rationalized the thing, though, and the girl had absorbed knowledge from every available book to strengthen her beliefs. The problem with that, though, was the reaction at finding something that wasn't documented anywhere.

Harry felt that his bushy-haired friend was starting one of her rants, and he started throwing calming thoughts towards her. He didn't have to do it for long before being interrupted again, this time by a couple of redheads: Fred and George were entering the shop again, sporting identical grins and blushes.

"What have you two been doing?" demanded Mrs Weasley, eyeing their countenance suspiciously.

To her surprise, the twins didn't even answer. They merely sat at the table, and sighed contentedly.

Nevertheless, they were there, and, intending to go home soon, Mrs Weasley took her leave of the Lovegoods. At the same time, Katie teased the twins playfully, and they blushed even more before recovering their usual playful mood and teasing her back.

"Alright, you lot." Mrs Weasley said, addressing her red-haired children. "Time to go home."

They all said their goodbyes to each other, before going home for the final days of the summer vacation.

It was only when he arrived in Newcastle that Harry remembered about his idea of checking about the Longbottoms. That thought brought another one, and he looked at Tracey intently.

After several seconds, she noticed and looked back at him. "What? Do I have a spot on my nose?" she asked with humour. When he didn't answer immediately, she got to her feet and sat beside him, still looking him in the eye. "What is it, Harry?"

"How old are we, Tracey?"

"What do you mean? We're 13, of course. Why?"

He suddenly grew shy about it. "What do you think about Neville?"

She looked at him in wonder. "What about him, Harry? Is it about his parents?"

"No! It's about..." he trailed off. Despite having shared some tender moments with Tracey, they hadn't spoken about their feelings yet, and he was quite nervous.

"Is this about Katie?" Tracey suddenly asked. Then, in a smaller voice, she added "About us?"

He nodded. "Are we ready for this?"

She took a deep breath. "To answer your first question, I think you and I are more mature than most 13-years old. We both witnessed things..." she trailed off for a few seconds, before speaking again. "Especially you. I find it good for Neville to have built enough self-confidence to ask anyone out, but you don't need to "ask me out", Harry Potter. I'm with you already. Unless..." she stopped again, unsure of how to continue.

"I'm with you as well, Tracey." he answered. "I was just wondering about the name of the feelings we have for each other. Is it... love?"

He was looking at her, and, suddenly, his mental walls lifted, dragging her inside his mind towards his recollections of their moments together. When the tour was finished, she found herself back in her seat, her cheeks wet with tears.

"I'm sorry." he said, giving her a tissue. "I didn't think-"

She raised a hand to his face, stopping him. "It's alright." she said. "I just wasn't prepared for it, that's all. I think we can."

"Can what?"

"Call it love." she replied, blushing profusely. After several seconds, she continued. "We can wait for some time before saying it aloud, if you want. After all, we spent a good part of the last year together as friends. And we certainly don't want the outside world to know that some teacher wooed one of his teenaged students into his bed." she finished, her blush reaching a Weasley level.

"I... I wouldn't..." he stuttered, blushing as well, before being interrupted by her hand again.

"Don't say it. My words went beyond my thoughts, there." she said. "Let's keep our pace, please?"

He nodded, and opened his arms to her. The two of them hugged for a long time that evening, not like lovers yet, but definitely not like mere friends.

Harry's thoughts were millions of miles away from Neville's parents, now. But he didn't know that he'd see them sooner than expected.

---

Ministry of Magic, Sunday, noon...

The doors to the Wizengamot meeting room were tightly shut, and spelled to be impervious to any form of spying. In the large antechamber, there were numerous wizards and witches waiting quite anxiously for them to open. Most of them were journalists, and the others were the two candidates and their retinues. Scrimgeour was impassive, quite the opposite of Fudge, who was pacing restlessly, like the nervous wreck he was. His thoughts barely concealed behind meagre Occlumency walls, the portly man was wondering if he had paid the Wizengamot members enough to ensure his re-election.

Inside the sealed room, the discussions had started slowly, with the usual swearing about each other's identity and the number of votes they had received. After this, however, things went from bad to worse quite rapidly.

"I don't understand how Dumbledore could have gotten so many votes!" a frizzy-haired witch screeched, standing and pointing at the Chief Warlock, all of this without giving the man his rightful title. "He must have cheated for this to be even possible!"

"Preposterous!" exclaimed a wizened old witch, her tone belying her age. "Even our Chief Warlock can't overcome the truth spells put in this room."

"How do you know, Griselda?" asked the first witch. "Would we know if he can overcome these?"

"Ladies, ladies." the subject of the conversation said, trying to appease them. "There is no need to get angry about this. If you wish, I can swear on my magic."

The first witch looked at him coldly for a few seconds, and nodded curtly. "You do that." she said, and sat down.

Dumbledore sighed, and spoke the words required of him.

Once the magic was settled, the first witch got to her feet again. "That doesn't prove anything! With the power he is supposed to have, he can counterfeit magical vows as well." she said, looking around for support. To her surprise, her vehement plea found no supportive ear, and even the ones who were openly against Dumbledore didn't seem interested by her speech.

"Everybody knows that you can't counterfeit magical vows." the wizened old witch said smugly, supported by a chorus of "Hear, hear."

"But... but..."

"I think it's enough." said the man who was sitting right next to her. He patted her arm and she sat with a huff. The dumpy man stood up in her place and stroked his moustache before speaking again. "However, this calls for the question as to how it is actually possible."

The chorus of question was quickly quieted as Dumbledore stood up as well. "If I may offer a reply: the majority of the voting public consists of muggleborn witches and wizards, some of them not even living in wizarding settlements." he said, raising their interest and numerous comments which he quieted by raising his hands. "You shall remember that, fifty years ago, and against my wishes, this body issued a recommendation to the Board of Governors of Hogwarts, which culminated in the removal of the course in Wizarding Politics from the curriculum."

"What's the point?" asked the man.

"Since the numerous muggleborn wizards and witches who passed the halls of Hogwarts missed that course, the only member of the Wizengamot they know is me. It has never occurred to us before, because these muggleborns have rarely participated in the elections."

"Why the change?" asked a tall and thin wizard from the other end of the room.

"I'm sure you remember the recent attacks targeting the muggleborns." Dumbledore finished, before sitting down. Nothing more had to be said, and the dumpy wizard grumbled in his moustache.

After a few seconds, he spoke up again. "They should be removed from the votes."

"What do you mean?" asked Dumbledore.

"We are all pureblood here, and these disgusting muggleborns pretend to dictate our wishes?" the man asked, trying to rally others to his cause by speaking louder and moving his arms frantically. "Since they don't live in wizarding places, they obviously don't belong to our society, and their vote should be discarded."

Dumbledore looked around, and sadly remarked that several people were agreeing with the man. These extreme ideas weren't new in the wizarding society, but seeing them openly expressed in the Wizengamot was a first.

"What you are suggesting," he began, raising his hands to draw the attention again, "is to remove the civil rights of some wizards and witches, just because they weren't born from wizarding parents."

"Don't take that road with us, Dumbledore." the man answered. "All of us here know where your loyalties lie. The fact is that, with this number of votes behind you, you have an unprecedented power over this body and that shall not be." He then turned towards the rest of the members. "Dumbledore has led this body with an iron grip for too long already. I propose that we use this opportunity to change our Chief Warlock."

Dumbledore was stunned speechless by the man's gall. An iron grip? In the few seconds he took to react, he also remarked that, judiciously placed in the crowd, several members were agreeing loudly, rousing the others to acceptance. His anger flared at the manoeuvre, and he resolved to use a trump card he had thought he could have kept for a later use. "How dare you!" he exclaimed, stilling the group. "How dare you question my loyalties, while yours are clearly not with us?"

With a bit of wandless magic, he lifted the man's sleeve, and a gasp echoed from several throats at the same time. Voldemort's Dark Mark was there, a blackened stain on the man's sallow skin.

No move was made for a few seconds, before the man grabbed his sleeve frantically, fighting Dumbledore's spell. "It's not my fault!" he exclaimed. "I was under the Imperius Curse."

"I'd like to see you swear on this." Dumbledore said with a severe stare.

The man blinked once. Then twice. Then he grabbed something in his pocket.

Several people reacted immediately, grabbing their wands, but the man had acted first.

He disappeared.

After their initial shock, the members of the Wizengamot looked at their Chief Warlock in concern.

Dumbledore had his wand out, and was lifting his sleeves, making them stick magically so that his arms were bared. He then addressed the group with a serious expression. "It's not the habit of this group to propose a new fashion, but I propose that we all do that. The time for half-truths is over, and we have an election to finish."

The members had their wands out and started to do so. A couple of them had different ideas, though.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Two beams of green light shot towards Dumbledore, but the old man had thought about it, and he conjured a slab of stone which intercepting the curses, exploding in a shower of gravel in the process. When the dust cleared, the two offenders were gone as well.

"Three..." Dumbledore mused. 'That's one more than I thought.' he reflected. 'And, to go through the wards here, they must have used Portkeys made by Voldemort himself, no less.'

One could wonder how members of the Wizengamot could be Marked by the Dark Lord, and why the Mark was still in such an obvious place. The Dark Mark is a spell, and even Voldemort would have to work on it for some time to change the Mark's place. And members of the Wizengamot, elected by their peers, had never been checked for Dark Marks. On top of that, their ceremonial robes covered their arms quite completely. It was only through his numerous contacts that Dumbledore had been able to know about the identity of one of them, and the presence of a second one. As to why he hadn't exposed them before: like he had done several times in the past, he wanted these people to redeem themselves. He had been quite violently opposed today, though, and it brought home the fact that the wizarding world was on the brink of war. He knew that Voldemort was alive, and that, by keeping a low profile for the moment, the Dark Lord was preparing something big.

Dumbledore shook himself out of his reverie when he noticed that everyone was ready, standing with their arms bared – clear of any Dark tattoo – and their wands in hand. "Thank you. Now that the threat is gone, we can revert to a more formal attire. These circumstances bring me to another subject, though. The Wizengamot is the supreme legal power in Britain, and it shall not be swayed by Death Eaters at all, nor shall it be corrupted. I propose that we all swear on this." He stopped for a second and noticed the anxious expressions of a few members and filed their names in his mind for future use. "The vow shall be in the like of the following: I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, solemnly swear on my magic that I will not be swayed by anyone or anything in my future decisions in the Wizengamot."

While the members repeated the vow one after the other, Dumbledore noticed that the members he had remarked earlier were put at ease with the wording of the vow, although they were still wary. He suspected that whoever bribed them would be angry of not having the expected result.

They then proceeded to the vote proper. The Death Eaters gone, with the votes behind Dumbledore, it was no surprise that Fudge was not chosen to continue his disastrous work.

When the vote was done, the Wizengamot members trickled out of the room in an orderly fashion and Dumbledore announced the results. The reporters focused on Fudge's rage, and no one noticed that the Wizengamot was three members shorter than usual.

---

King's Cross Station, September 1st

The train ride to Hogwarts started as usual, except for one thing. It was a small thing, really, and no one noticed it. Most of the Slytherin students and several pureblood children in other Houses were quieter than normal. Quieter and nervous. If one had been looking at them, one could have seen them anxiously playing with trinkets that hung from their neck, wrists, or fingers. One would have also remarked that they all took the time to walk to the last carriages instead of grabbing the first available ones.

The train pulled out of the station, before starting the long trip northwards.

After an hour, in her compartment, Tracey started to get nervous as well. It wasn't for the same reasons, though. She knew that Harry intended to make the trip with her, given that he had promised to be there. But he wasn't.

Tracey also knew that he was with the teachers at the moment, preparing the Welcoming Feast. He had told her about the Time Turner, of course, and that's how he could have been in the train with her, while staying at Hogwarts at the same time. He had told her that he'd turn back the time after the teachers' meeting so that he'd be there. But he wasn't.

Thinking that he was playing a prank to her, or waiting for an appropriate moment to appear, she sat back and read one of her favourite books, waiting for him. After all, if she tried to use her pendant to contact him mentally, chances were that she's startle him in the middle of the teachers' meeting, and she didn't want that.

However, after visiting her friends twice and finishing her book, she had exhausted all the possible outlets for her nervousness, and she decided to contact him anyways. It was already three in the afternoon, and she was starting to get really upset.

She closed her eyes, and, grasping her sapphire pendant, concentrated on him. 'Harry?'

Several seconds later, his answer came. 'Yes, sweetheart?' It was clear, but delayed by the probable distance.

'Err... I don't know how to say it, but... You are not there. I have just spent two hours reading The Keep again, waiting for you.' she sent.

The seconds trickled by, and she wondered if he had received her message. She was ready to cast it again when he answered. 'I was in the teachers' meeting and just left, with the pretext of going to the loo. What do you mean?'

'Just that you... Hey! What is...? Harry! Help! We're-'

The advantage of mental discussion was that emotions and pictures could be sent as well, and Harry reeled in the Hogwarts loo, under the feeling of despair and the images of train wreckage Tracey had just sent. He couldn't lose any time asking for confirmation.

Using his still-active connection to Hogwarts' consciousness, Cassie, he Apparated out and hurled himself through the gaseous reality. If some rules of magic could have been broken, he'd have gone even faster. He followed the tracks until he found the place where Tracey had called from, halfway from London. It was only seconds after her call, but he realized that there ought to be casualties as soon as he saw the train. Or what was left of it. The red engine was reduced to a mass of metal, along with the three first carriages. The two carriages afterwards were a blazing inferno, and numerous Death Eaters were casting curse after curse at the remaining carriages – except for the last four, which were in a surprisingly good shape.

Harry knew he had to act fast, and what's the best way to act fast but go back in time?

He took a few seconds to think, and reflected that he would have to time his return accurately. He knew he couldn't prevent the wreckage, because, then, Tracey wouldn't call him and it would create a paradox – as his past self wouldn't have been warned. He knew he should appear between Tracey's initial call and her cry for help. Arriving later could mean that she died in the wreckage, and arriving before would make the call she made reach his future self, probably creating a paradox again. Unless...

He smiled, and silently thanked her for having tested their communication abilities with several instances of himself around. Looking at the scene of desolation a last time, he turned the silver hourglass a full turn backwards.

After the customary twirl in the space-time, he arrived at the same place, luckily devoid of train or supposedly dead students. Hurling himself southwards, he made up a plan and transformed into Jerry Homest. Once done, he brought his elaborate mask up, Galenus' magical cloak following suit. Thanks to the other tests he had done with Tracey, he also knew how to quickly change both of them as he needed, and he was soon looking like a member of the Corps of Royal Marines, the official green beret planted on his head. The only difference with the usual equipment of the Special Forces was Merlin's wand, firmly held in his right hand.

His plan now firmly established, he used the wand to transfigure one of his hairs into a trunk, which he then spelled heavily: the inside was enlarged until it was as large as the Great Hall, and cushioning charms were applied on the six sides; the outside was shrunk until it was resembling a portable trapdoor, just large enough to let a body pass through.

Since he now knew how to Apparate in a moving vehicle, Harry did exactly that, and used the wand to Stun the students in the first compartment of the train in one go. This done, he Levitated them inside his new container, their stuff following suit. His plan was to repeat this on each compartment, working his way to the train's queue. What he didn't know, though, was that the train was monitored by the Ministry, and that the spikes of magic caused by his spells would reach some people's ears soon.

Harry continued to Stun and to move the students, compartment after compartment, sometimes dispelling the locking charms in the way. Behind two of these closed doors, he found older students in positions that made him blush, but he Stunned them nonetheless and continued. He didn't forget to search the bathrooms, and his magical glasses assured him that he wasn't missing anyone – since he had been to the teachers' meeting as Henry Evans, he was wearing the glasses already.

He took care, however, to leave Tracey's carriage alone, sealing it and keeping it for the end. He knew two reasons for which his action wouldn't cause a paradox: one, she was reading, and, two, there had been no resistance when he threw the locking spell. Once almost everyone was unconscious and stowed away – including the woman with the food trolley, but leaving the driver out for the moment – he Apparated out and returned to Hogwarts. He looked at his watch and noticed that he had only a few minutes before Tracey's call. He took advantage of this time to enlarge and transfigure his portable trapdoor and magically stick it on the wall of the old classroom eleven – the portal towards the inter-house rooms. With a last look at his watch, he Apparated out and headed further to the north, knowing that Tracey's call would reach the closest version of him. While he was waiting there, he stowed Merlin's wand away and took the crossbow out, choosing an assortment of orange, purple, and polka-dotted black ammunition clips – explosives, smoke screens, and normal bolts with indentations causing them to scream while flying. The clips had a Velcro band on their backs, and it was easy to stick them to his garb. This done, and the weapon hung on his belt, he focused on his watch and waited.

When he was sure that Tracey's call had been made, he Apparated to the train again and took hold of the driver first, Stunning him with his ring and charming the train's pedal to stick to its "forward" position. Noticing the Death Eaters through the windshield, he quickly Apparated out and went to Tracey. Releasing the driver in the gaseous reality, he had just enough time to make his hands tangible to grab her and her possessions before the train brutally stopped, wrecking itself on whatever blocking spell the dark wizards had cast on the track.

Tracey, startled by her abduction, had opened her eyes and released the crystal, stopping her communication with his past self, but she quickly realized that only her boyfriend was able to grab people in the gaseous reality and, noticing the wreckage around her, she mentally thanked him.

His quick reply was to be silent, and, for a full minute, they didn't move, except for Harry to shrink her stuff and stowing it in her pockets. Harry's past self arrived then, and, after assessing the situation, he left to the past. Only then Harry did signal to Tracey that they could move out.

Harry's initial plan had been to leave quickly, letting the Death Eaters torture the empty carcass in vain. However, as he was starting to move to the north, he noticed people arriving from there. Tangible people in the gaseous reality, although they were immobile while travelling: people Apparating in. And he knew them: they were members of the Order of the Phoenix.

He swore and, knowing that Tracey could get herself out of the situation by Apparating out, he went back to help the Order against the Death Eaters, assuming Henry Evans' appearance again.

From his altitude of a few feet, in the gaseous reality, Harry first noticed that the arriving members of the Order of the Phoenix were under heavy fire. The area was slightly forested and they had arrived on the right-side of the track, not far from the largest group of Death Eaters. His next observation was that the heavy fire was coming from two fronts: left and right from the train track. While he was looking around, he had also taken the crossbow out and had equipped an orange clip. He returned his hand and the associated weapon to tangibility and fired the five bolts at the five largest groups of Death Eaters. He barely perceived the five resulting explosions as he was disengaging the used clip and equipping a purple one instead. He didn't have time to repeat his previous shooting, though, as someone – friend? foe? – had put up an anti-Apparation field. Thanking his good fortune for not being stuck in some matter, he Apparated out and, while gravity was calling him back to earth, he shot several bolts around the Order's position. He landed in a crouch near Mad-Eye Moody and missed being shot by a hair's breadth. The paranoid Auror recognized him just in time to move his wand away at the last second. Harry felt the spell fly by and thanked the Fates again. That spell would have been painful.

"What are you doing, lad?" the man asked, before registering the smoke clouds around them. "Your work?"

"Aye." Harry answered absently, chucking a dotted black clip on the crossbow.

Moody threw a couple of spells and the two of them heard a couple of pained cries, showing that the man's aim wasn't perturbed by the smoke – of course, his magical eye was of a great help there. "Good job." he said, before throwing spells again. And it was quite true. The smoke was far enough from the Order for them to have clear shots at the Death Eaters coming through, and the Death Eaters' aim was now completely off.

"We have to get to the train!" a voice behind Harry yelled – Dumbledore.

"No!" he shouted back, but just loud enough so that only the Order would hear it. "The students are safe!"

He felt the incomprehension around him and threw screaming bolts at the Death Eaters, noticing with a grim satisfaction that he scored unerringly each time – of course, with glasses the equivalent of Moody's eye, it was no surprise again.

The screaming ammunition seemed to startle everyone, making the Death Eaters hesitate. Harry felt someone arriving behind him, and he whirled back and had the mixed pleasure of seeing the Headmaster looking at the business end of his crossbow.

"The students are safe?" Dumbledore asked, ducking under a red beam coming from the enemies.

Harry shot the Death Eater with his last screaming bolt, distractedly thinking that the Death Eaters must be either tired, new recruits, or both, to use Stunners instead of their usual Cruciatus or Killing curses – those two took quite a large bit of power to cast.

"Yes." he answered. "Jerry learnt of the attack an hour ago, and he moved them to Hogwarts already. He told me just before I left. Protego." he finished, noticing with pleasure that his shield reflected a Stunner back to its caster.

Dumbledore nodded, relieved about the students' fate and impressed by the apparently wandless spell. "Time to retreat, then." he said, before falling back to warn the others.

"Do you know how many of them there is?" Moody asked after downing another enemy.

"No, I-"

A scream interrupted Harry and he paled. It was a girl's scream.

Tracey.

Harry jumped to his feet and ran towards the scream. "Stop." he murmured. "Stop. Stop!"

The remains of his control over time were frail at best, but his anguish at losing his girlfriend made him pour a great deal of magic into it and he jumped over – and ran under – frozen beams of magic, to get towards the scream. When he reached his goal, he noticed two things: he was in the middle of a group of Death Eaters, and one of them was holding Tracey, fangs bared and ready to "drink". Still in an accelerated time frame, Harry ran to the man, shouting several curses as he went. They impacted the white-haired man, who started to fall from the onslaught – and two broken legs. Upon reaching him, Harry was finally able to snatch the girl from his arms.

At that moment, he was a bit relieved to be in control of the situation again, and his power over time slipped. Time flew forward again, but the situation was not in control. As soon as Harry appeared there, seemingly from nowhere, the Death Eaters threw their curses at the pair. Without any other option, Harry Apparated out.

He was still stuck in the gaseous reality, but, at least, the spells didn't reach them.

'What were you thinking?' he demanded. 'I told you to leave!'

'You didn't!' came the equally harsh reply. 'I came to help you.'

'Well, it doesn't seem to be that way.'

'Fine!' she sent, with the mental equivalent of a huff.

After several seconds, Harry addressed her again. 'Sorry. It's true, I didn't tell you to leave, I just supposed you would.'

'How could I?' she immediately answered, although it was said more softly, and Harry felt her relief as well. 'I didn't know what had happened. One second, I'm in the train, and the next, you leave me to fend by myself. I'm sorry to have caused problems, though.' she amended. 'Did I?'

'Did you what?' he enquired.

'Did I cause problems?' she asked in a small voice.

'Well... I don't know. Where is the train driver I left you with?'

'Oh, he's still Stunned, over that ridge... Oh! They found him!'

'I'll go check. Are you fine, right now? No need to breathe, or anything?'

'I didn't realize, but... no, no need.'

'Alright. Stay here, now.'

The whole conversation hadn't lasted more than a few seconds, and the Death Eaters were just reacting at what had happened.

Lucius Malfoy was furious. He was furious to have found an empty train. He had sniffed a virgin's scent and had caught the young girl, but that demon of a man had battered him with spells before catching her and disappearing despite the anti-Apparation field. In anger, Malfoy had snapped at his unit, and they had started scouting the surroundings, leaving him in the clearing to lick his wounds. As he was healing his legs, using a magic he didn't remember learning – that was from his first prey – he didn't see an arm appearing out of thin air behind him, nor did he hear the incantation. The Stunning spell took him by surprise and he toppled over.

Harry appeared again and ran to the ridge behind which the train driver was hidden, and where two Death Eaters had gone. When he arrived there, he ducked their spells and quickly Stunned them. He was slowly standing up when a mental warning came from Tracey.

'Duck! The vampire's awake again.'

He hadn't waited the end of the conversation to obey, and a green beam shot over his head. He jumped behind the ridge, barely avoiding a barrage of spells like no one ever subjected him to, and wondering if vampires had a heightened resistance to Stunning spells.

As he didn't want to raise his head unnecessarily, he opened his awareness to his surroundings to search for the man. Once his enemy was spotted, Harry poked the wand through the earth at the ridge top, aiming it correctly before casting a strong explosion hex. The barrage of spells stopped, and Harry left it at that for the moment, sliding further behind the ridge, towards the train driver. Like he had done with Tracey, he Apparated out with the man, leaving him in the gaseous reality before becoming tangible again. The man wasn't hurt, and Harry vowed to get him back eventually.

'He's up again!' he suddenly received, and wondered about how he was going to dispose of the man. With the memories he had to teach his own course, he checked to see how to get rid of such a dark creatures, and he found one of the possible ways: stab the heart. Concentrating for a second, he Summoned his katana and quickly applied the reflecting shield on it, like he had done before – one is never too careful.

He also strengthened his skin, but didn't have much time to do so as the man appeared above the ridge already. Harry lunged at him in a forward thrust, expecting a supernatural resistance, but nothing of the sort happened. For a couple seconds, the man stood there, looking stupidly at the blade protruding from his chest, before toppling over, blood spewing from his chest as the weapon was released. Under Harry's surprised gaze, the man seemed to shrink and his hair became blond all of a sudden. On top of recognizing Malfoy, Harry was surprised to see the faint image of a woman exiting the man's body like a ghost, before giving it a few kicks and then dissolving into thin air.

At the same moment, Harry sensed someone else approaching, and he readied his sword. However, while he was expecting another Death Eater to approach slowly, Harry wasn't expecting a reddish blurry mass literally bowling him over. Fortunately, he still had fast reflexes and avoided his throat from being bitten off, while slicing the creature's furry skin across the chest. The beast howled in rage and pain, but it didn't prevent it from charging again. Harry didn't even have time to stand up again as the half-man half-tiger beast pounced on him, pushing him back on the ground. Nor did he have time to ponder at the creature's resilience: the wound on its chest had healed already.

Even with a slightly hardened skin, having several hundreds of pounds sitting on one's chest is quite difficult already. Having that weight jumping there and actively trying to destroy you at the same time, that is really painful. Despite his lack of oxygen, Harry managed to throw a couple of spells to the creature, throwing it away, but this was only enraging it further, and it pounced again. His back flat against the ground, Harry started to feel dizzy and, confused, he tried to attack the beast again, tentatively waving his short blade toward it. This gave the inattentive beast a slight wound on the cheeks and, moving away from the blade, it leapt at Harry again. After a second of uneasiness, Harry felt his world explode in pain as the beast snapped its powerful jaws around his upper left arm. The sharp teeth had had difficulties cutting the skin, but, that done, they went through muscles as through butter, snapping the bone as if it was made of brittle glass.

Harry tried to scream in pain, but he couldn't even raise his chest to do so. He tried to attack again, but his oxygen-deprived organism wasn't complying anymore. When dark spots began to appear in his visual field, he knew that his world was coming to an end, and, oblivious to the shouts around the battlefield, he fell into a pain-filled unconsciousness with the picture of a self-satisfied beast etched in his retinas. A beast gnawing at a meat-covered bone. A beast curiously resembling the swordsman he had killed in the battle of Windsor. In a last mental surge, he learnt the name of his aggressor.

Rodolphus Lestrange.

To be continued in next chapter: The Longest Day...

It arrives... Can you feel it?
The final battle, was it?
Not quite yet, I'll just say that
You'll like it written like that.