Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!
S/N: Well, here it is. I know its been awhile, but I'm super busy. Hopefully this chapter, which is quite long, will tied you over.
S/N 2: Here you get all the information about the Potter family that I said I would tell you about way back when. I have their whole entire family drawn out, it's quite cool, really. Anyway, this story is quickly coming to a close, I think you'd be surprised how little is left: the next few chapters are fast paced.
Chapter 29: Home for the Holidays: Run Run Draco.
The Dark Lord Voldemort paced around the stone room that he was occupying, his anger and rage palpable throughout the darkness. Draco Malfoy, the man he had entrusted with punishing the purebloods that had refused to join the Dark Lord's cause, had failed him once again, this time by getting another five of his Death Eaters caught. "You," He pointed to a large Death Eater off to the side, who was dumbly standing around. "Get me Malfoy."
The tall, heavyset Death Eater nodded, and ran out of the room as fast as his enormous body could take him. He went down the twisty, bendy hallways of the manor until he found the wizard he was looking for. Taking out his wand, he slowly inched closer and closer to Draco's turned back, and then just as he was close enough to insure a direct hit, he recited a spell. Draco, who had heard the attack fast enough to defend himself, circled around and looked at his aggressor with wide, incredulous eyes. "Crabbe?" He questioned, confusedly.
"Our Master wants you." Crabbe said, a gleeful look upon his face. Draco studied the man's features, and as if learning what he wanted to know, threw a stunner at the lumbering Death Eater. The jet of red light hit Crabbe's chest and immediately knocked him unconscious, sending his body to the ground in a lump.
"What is going on here?" A voice cut through the air, startling Draco and making him almost drop his wand. Quickly, the wizard turned around to face the voice, and gave a small, unnoticeable sigh at the sight of Theodore Nott.
"Nott, thank Merlin its you." Draco started, his voice nervous and his tone serious. "The Dark Lord, he wants me dead, I need help."
"The Dark Lord wants you?" Theodore replied, raising his wand at Draco's form, threateningly. "Why? Have you betrayed him? Have you sold us all out to the Order of the Phoenix or the Ministry, perhaps?" Nott accused, his eyes narrowing on Draco and his body preparing for a fight.
"Theodore, please, we're friends…" Draco begged, staring the rabbit-looking man straight in the eyes. His face, which was framed with his white blond hair, was all but frowning, showing how fearful the wizard was.
"Oh, now we're friends?" Nott replied sarcastically, cocking up a mocking eyebrow. "What about in Hogwarts when I refused to be pushed around by you like Crabbe and Goyle were? Were we friends then? Face it, Draco, you couldn't stand that I was just as pure, rich, and even smarter than you were: you hated it, and basically loathed me for it."
"But now?" Draco pleaded, realizing for the first time in his life that his past transgressions were going to come back and bite him: Crabbe had proven that already by turning on him. He thought with his money, his looks, and his power, that he'd be able to get himself out of anything and that nothing could touch him, but now he was figuring out just how wrong he was.
"Arm yourself, Draco, because no one else here will save you." Nott said with a hint of pity in his voice, though there wasn't much. He gave one last look to the blond before turning and beginning to head out of the room, his head held high. Before he left, however, he stopped, took a deep breath as if to gather his thoughts, and said, "I won't come after you, Draco, but I won't help you, either. I think, by asking me of all people for help, you're asking the wrong side." Then, without saying anything else, Nott left the room, wondering if Draco was smart or aware enough to get the meaning of his message.
Draco apparated away to his home immediately, all the while knowing that the Dark Lord would send more Death Eaters after him soon; they wouldn't stop until he was dead, that he knew for sure. Grabbing his wand, he ran through the halls of his house franticly, trying to defend it as best as he could. He didn't know many wards, and his protection spells left much to be desired, but he hoped what he did know would be enough for the time being, to secure his safety until he could think of something else. Luckily for him, he didn't have the extensive grounds around his home that the Malfoy manor had; instead, he lived in a wooded area in the middle of England that had a small brook that ran though his backyard. A mile or two down the road was a muggle village that, for all intents and purposes, didn't even know Draco's house existed because of the various charms that were already on the house.
Meanwhile, back in Voldemort's throne room, Nott was bowing in front of the Dark Lord, relaying to him that Draco had fled. "And there was nothing you could do to stop him, Nott?" Voldemort sneered, though a vicious smirk was forming on his face; oh how he loved to see his servants squirm, to quiver at his feet.
"I beg your pardon, my liege, but I was not privy to the information that we were to capture Draco. I apologize, and am ready for whatever punishment you deal to me: I will not flee like a coward." Theodore gulped down the ball that was in his throat, daring not to meet the Dark Lord's eyes; he was brave, yes, but not stupid.
Voldemort gave out a laugh; it was filled with nothing but contempt, as a feeling of maniacal glee overtook him. Nott had impressed him once again, more so than any of the other new Death Eaters ever had: Stephen Cornfoot had his moments, however brief they were; Marcus Flint was surprisingly cognizant and attentive to his surroundings most of the time; and Draco Malfoy, previous to his abandonment to the cause, could stir up great numbers by the clout and power his name brought, and some times could be an articulate and intelligent orator and diplomat like his father was, but none had the same nature as Nott—the same sense of self and propriety that kept the man from being punished, the same sense of…servitude. "No matter," The Dark Lord muttered, shrugging his bony shoulders. "Malfoy will be captured by us soon enough, just as Karkaroff was!" Voldemort yelled out, as a wave of cheers and grunts of acknowledgement followed from his Death Eaters.
Not even a month ago, Death Eaters had infiltrated the halls of Durmstrang, where Igor Karkaroff was Headmaster, and had killed the traitor right in his own office. Karkaroff had put up a good fight, as before his murder he had been running from the Death Eaters and had only just returned to what he presumed was the safety of his school when his death was finally brought upon him. The Ministries of both Latvia—where Durmstrang was located—and England had covered it up, fearing that if word had gotten out that another Headmaster of a school had been killed in his own school, that the parents would pull their children out of school for fear of their safety. Generally, it had worked as the public was not the wiser for it, but there had been a few leaks of the information throughout both ministries by reporters that had to be squashed.
An hour later and in the heart of London, the Order of the Phoenix was meeting in the House of Black. Harry stood at the head of the table, a small frown on his face as he addressed the rest of the members; they're eyes were firmly on the wizard, their attention completely his. "I need to find Dumbledore's brother; I need him to tell the Order information about something Albus wanted us to know. But in order to accomplish that, however, I need time: so for the next few days, we will not be having a meeting. This hiatus will last until after Christmas, so we'll all have time to rest and relax, which is a change from normal. If you hear something, or if there is an attack, then alert the Order members that you know and talk to on a daily basis—Sirius will still be here to listen to what you have to say, so if worst comes to worst, come here, talk to Sirius, and he'll relay it to me. I'm sorry but this is much too important to not take care of. Dumbledore's brother just might be the person who can help us beat Voldemort for good."
Harry made eye contact with both Elphias Doge and Dedalus Diggle, silently telling them that they would speak later. Those two, having gone to school with Albus and being childhood friends with him, knew where Aberforth was, and if they said something, anything, then Harry's plan would be ruined. You see, Harry was already a friend of Aberforth; he knew the man well and went to the Hog's Head tavern a few times a month, that's why it was a perfect trap. He was trying to sell it to see if there really was a spy: he hoped that the spy would run back to Voldemort and squeal, allowing Kylie and Snape to know about him. Surely, if Harry said it was that important, important enough to ruin the Dark Lord, Voldemort would babble it out to his lowly Death Eaters. Fortunately enough, only a handful of people from the Order even realized that Aberforth had made an appearance during that first Order meeting; appearing as the hooded figure that trounced down the stairs during Albus Dumbledore's opening speech.
Everyone gave a nod of understanding, having no idea that Harry was tricking them all, hoodwinking them in the hopes of finding the leak in the Order. "Good, now that we have that covered, we can move onto the other items of the day." Harry said, reading off a few things from the piece of parchment that was on the table in front of him. "What do we have on Death Eaters' actions?" Harry questioned, looking between Snape and Kylie, his two spies.
Kylie cleared his throat, a dryness overcoming it for some reason. "He's sent the upper level Death Eaters out on missions; the only one we see at the meetings is Quirrell, who hasn't left the Dark Lord's side since he killed Dumbledore, seemingly being exalted to the Dark Lord's favorite and most worthy. Meanwhile, Pettigrew hasn't been seen for weeks…"
"He probably ran away because, like always, he's too afraid to fight." Sirius snidely interrupted with a laugh. He still couldn't believe that Peter and him had still yet to have that duel he'd waited so long to have; Pettigrew was never on the raids that Sirius was trying to stop, so the chance had never come about.
"No, I don't think so." Kylie corrected, continuing on as if Sirius had never interrupted. "He's off on some mission we think, one of such great importance that he hasn't told anyone about it: not me, not Snape, perhaps not even Quirrell or Crouch. The Dark Lord, all the while, is working on a project as well by the hints that he's given us lately."
"Any ideas?" Harry questioned the pair, wanting to know what they thought.
"About Pettigrew? No." Snape shook his head, entering the conversation. "But The Dark Lord? We think he's after the Deathstick."
There was a gasp around the table, a look of fear and intrigue on most peoples' faces. To the general populace of the wizarding world, the Elder Wand, commonly known as the Deathstick or the Wand of Destiny, was just a legend, a fairy tale that parents told their children about, so hearing that a wizard of Voldemort's caliber believed it to be real was quite shocking. Harry quietly looked around the room, and upon seeing their faces, gave a small smile. "Perhaps," He said, easily, knowing that the Elder Wand was perfectly hidden from Voldemort. "What about the rest of his important Death Eaters? How about the Lestranges, what do you know about them?"
Despereaux's ears perked up at the mention of his father's name, and he leaned into the table more, wanting to hear a little more clearly. "Bellatrix has just started to show her face again, but doesn't attend the meetings all of the time; she doesn't look the same, that's for sure." Kylie relayed, shrugging a little. "Rodolphus only shows up when Bellatrix comes, clearly still taking care of her, and Rabastan doesn't really do anything that we can see. He just kind of stands there, menacing-like."
"And the Malfoys," Snape continued, giving Kylie a dirty look. "Are barely hanging on; Draco has already been run out of the country just this morning, and Lucius is backpedaling, trying to calm the storm that his son brought about. My guess is that he'll be fleeing soon enough, too, if he hasn't already."
"We still don't have enough of them captured, unfortunately." Harry muttered, shaking his head in disappointment. "What did Draco do that he had to flee for?"
"He was being himself, that's what he did—he was too arrogant and lost too many Death Eaters during his raids against purebloods." Snape answered, ironically stating the opposite of what Harry had just said. "The Dark Lord thinks his forces are dwindling, and like always, needs someone to blame it on that's not himself."
"We don't know if really did flee the country or not, we're only guessing; either way, though, he won't be back with the Death Eaters for the foreseeable future." Kylie interjected, correcting Snape.
"So we still have Barty Crouch, Antonin Dolohov, and Augustus Rookwood all unaccounted for." Harry ticked off, using his fingers for emphasis. "What about the others that escaped Azkaban: Mulciber, Travers, Jugson and Gibbon?"
"They're around." Snape replied, looking bored and disinterested, as if he had somewhere else, somewhere more interesting to be. "Until Quirrell or Crouch moves, the rest just go on random raids. And with Pettigrew still away on his mission, whatever it is, I doubt Quirrell will be going anywhere anytime soon. As for Rookwood and Dolohov, they're a lot harder to pinpoint: they have the skill, power, and knowledge to go out on their own, but they seem to answer to Crouch and Quirrell like the others, which leads me to believe that its just a front, that they're up to something as well."
"I'd feel much better if they were back in Azkaban. At least there, they'd be guarded by Aurors and the six loyal Dementors." Kingsley brought up, showing his trust in the Dementors that had stayed—Harry and Dumbledore had been weary, but the Dementors had proven themselves in Kingsley's eyes. They had made sure that the captured Death Eaters stayed where they were, rather than allow them to just escape out of their cells like most thought they would have. Sure, they still weren't a pleasure to be around, but they weren't feeding off innocent souls like their brethren were.
"Those Dementors have kept their promise, huh? Its incredible: they said Azkaban would be safe, and it has been. The Dark Lord can't even get near it." Despereaux said, a hint of amazement in his French-accented voice. He remembered his first ever Order meeting, when the great Azkaban escape had just happened and Kingsley had reported the news; it was forever engrained his mind. It was the day that his father, who had long been dormant in the back of his mind, entered the forefront of his thoughts. Just as the feeling of nostalgia overtook him, he was thrown out of his memories by a question from Remus, the resident werewolf.
"What about Greyback? I haven't seen him around any of the werewolf clans lately." Remus said in a low voice; he looked tired and haggard, and his face was accentuated with sleep-deprived bags under his eyes.
"He's got quite a few werewolves on the Death Eater's side; and Macnair has numerous other beasts and animals on their side, too." Snape replied with a scowl, as if the very thought of a werewolf disgusted him. Off to the side, Sirius growled underneath his breath, seeing the scowl on the Potion master's face, which he assumed was for Remus.
"Doesn't your father work for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Diggory?" Tynan Davis questioned from his seat at the end of the table, a rare occurrence during the Order meetings. He usually stood back and listened, not inputting anything into the conversation, instead he would just help whenever asked.
"Ah, yeah, why?" Cedric responded, confusedly.
"Walden Macnair works for the Department, as well, doesn't he?" Broderick Bode added, seeing the line of thinking that Davis was having. "Perhaps we could find out what beasts he's acquired and where he has them hidden."
"Macnair hasn't stepped foot in the Department since You-Know-Who reappeared, as you should know, Bode." Sturgis Podmore said, shooting down Bode's idea. Podmore, who worked in the Ministry as a member of the Department of Magical Transportation, was a member of the Order during Voldemort's first rise to power and had come back to fight the Dark Lord again, giving the Order another spy within the Ministry's ranks. He had a square jaw and thick straw colored hair, and his one claim to fame was being a distant relative of Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore, the ghost in charge of the headless hunt.
A moment of silence overtook the group, and Harry cleared his throat, regaining everyone's attention. "That'll be all for today." He said, quietly. "Have a good holiday, everyone."
The Order Members began to file out, and as Elphias Doge and Dedalus Diggle passed Harry, they quietly whispered, "We don't even want to know: we trust you, and we understand that you have a plan for something that deals with Aberforth." Harry nodded and watched as they both left, his eyes traveling with them as they walked up the stairs, before he too left the room, apparating back to his home in Wales.
Harry yawned as he walked out of the Hitwizard's office the next morning, finally done with his work for the night. He waved to a few of his colleagues that were gathering their things to leave as well, and he entered the hallway, making his way to the floor connected fireplaces that lined the atrium's walls. As he entered the high-ceilinged room, an eerie sensation washed over him and the hair on his neck stood up on end. He cocked an eyebrow and scanned the room with his intense green gaze; in the corner there was a man reading the Daily Prophet, who would peak over the paper every so often to take a look at Harry and then return to his reading.
Then, nipping his shoulder, an aged man briskly passed him by, and after walking a good ten feet further away, stopped and turned around slowly to face Harry. "The country burns around you, wizards and witches of all ages scream out in pain, and yet you lollygag around the Ministry of Magic, as if searching for bogeymen that don't exist."
"What?" Harry asked, giving the man a curious look. He had a long, gray beard that was seemingly tucked into the belt on his robes, and thinning gray hair that cascaded down his back. Harry squinted his eyes to try and read the half covered name tag that was partially covered underneath the man's beard on the right side of his chest, and only could make out the first two letters: BA.
"You have work to do, don't you?" The man said, this time his voice came out less forcefully, as if he realized his faux pas and wanted to correct himself. There was a nervous quality to him, not a fearing type of nervous but instead it was more like a frazzled kind of nervous, a trait that came about when people hadn't learned the ways of socialization; though his nerves were masked by the resolution of his tone.
"HARRY!" A voice called through the air, catching Harry's attention. The wizard turned towards the voice, and smiled upon seeing Hermione. Then, remembering the conversation he was having with the old man, he turned back just in time to see him disappear in the fireplace with a flash of green flames. "Who was that?" Hermione questioned, interestedly.
"I…I don't know." Harry replied, thoughtfully. His eyes continued to stay on the same fireplace that the man had disappeared from as he asked, "What are you doing here so early?"
"A few reasons." Hermione said, quietly, her demeanor changing to a somewhat worried one. "I'll tell you when we're alone or in a place someone can't overhear us, okay?" She whispered, and he nodded, cocking an eyebrow. "I'll see you later!" She waved, and walked down the hallway to the stairs that would lead to the Department of Mysteries.
Harry stood there for another minute or two, his mind wandering back to that old man. For some reason, he had an unbelievable sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen that man and lived that moment once before, but why? He was sure he didn't know that man, let alone having spoke to him once before, but even still, that sense of familiarity had overcome him with great persuasion. The image of Lilyre's burning house entered his thoughts, that strange shadowed man that appeared under the trees coming to the forefront of his memories, his half covered face and long gray hair rushing into his mind's eye. They had to be one and the same, didn't they? He would find out that answer, but first he needed sleep. So, with another tired yawn, he flooed back to his home, laid down on the couch that was next to the fire place and passed out, the merciful darkness of sleep overcoming him.
December twenty-first arrived, which meant winter finally appeared, and with it, even in the dark times that the wizarding world was experiencing, came Christmas joy. People from all around the country were littering the streets of both Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, laughing while they bought presents for their loved ones, seemingly not a care in the world except for making their family and friends happy. Little boys and girls skipped down Diagon Alley wearing mittens and woolen hats as Harry walked towards a shop that was holding one of Nymphadora's presents; the children were trying to catch the snowflakes that were falling from the sky on their outstretched tongues. Women, meanwhile, bustled around him with bags in their arms, moving from one shop to the next, as though on a never-ending mission.
Harry nodded his head as he passed an Auror friend named Proudfoot, who gave a slight nod back, keeping his eyes out for danger. Swiftly, Harry entered a shop that sold magical jewelry and ornaments, perusing the shelves to see what they had to offer in interest. Not seeing anything that tickled his fancy, he exited the store and went to the next one. This pattern continued on for the rest of the day, Harry buying presents for all of his friends, family, and loved ones, not forgetting a single individual.
As he stopped by the Leaky Cauldron for a mug of warm butterbeer, a familiar face came walking past him. "Cepheus!" Harry called out, motioning the wizard over to him.
"Harry." Cepheus Nigel joyfully smiled back, coming over to the booth that Harry was at and taking the offered seat. "It's good to see you. It's been awhile, much too long."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, but with the Dark Lord running around…. you know." Harry answered, biting his lip as he shrugged slightly, knowing that Cepheus would understand.
"Oh, I do, don't you worry. I was just mentioning it. Sirius has told me all about it over the last few months, keeping me informed I guess you could say." Cepheus replied before he ordered himself a drink, and then he turned his attention back to Harry. "Christmas shopping?" He questioned with a small smile. Seeing Harry's nod, his smile broadened. "Yeah, me too. I don't know what to get Austrinus or Lucida," He sighed.
"Cheer up, I'm sure you'll find something." Harry grinned, raising his glass and taking a chug of his drink; the warm liquid soothed his tired and cold body. The pair continued to talk until their mugs were empty, and then they parted ways with Harry going home and Cepheus going into Diagon Alley, presumably to buy his gifts.
Everybody spent the following morning putting up Christmas decorations around Harry's home—Harry and Tonks would be hosting the festivities during the Christmas season, having parties and other gatherings of the like. Harry couldn't help but smile at everyone being in such a good and chipper mood; Sirius especially was joyful, apparently delighted that he was to have a Christmas outside of the walls of Azkaban for the first time in over twenty years. They were all singing carols, their voices echoing up throughout the house, reaching the empty spaces that no one even knew about. Harry grinned as he charmed the large, full tree that was standing next to the window in the living room.
As Harry took a step back to admire his work, Sirius tramped over to the bowl of drink that housed a wizarding version of muggle eggnog, signing, "God Rest You, Merry Hippogriffs" at the top of his voice. He took a sip, and looked around the room, nodding in satisfaction. The chandeliers were hung with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the lush carpets. The great Christmas tree, obtained in Harry's very own backyard, was decorated with live fairies, and magical snow and icicles adorned each branch; it was capped off with a gleaming gold star standing on the top.
Soon enough it was Christmas Eve day, and Harry and Tonks were just arriving at Kylie's manor for lunch. Since Kylie couldn't come to the festivities that Harry was hosting for the holiday the next day, due to having to be with Death Eaters all day and also not being able to divulge his identity, which would prevent him from truly enjoying himself at Harry's house, he had invited the wizard and his wife over for lunch so they could share presents and the like. Of course, Harry and Tonks accepted excitedly, wanting to be with their friends and knowing that this would be the only time to do it; plus, all of their other friends were with their families for the day, and Andromeda and Ted were with muggle childhood friends of Ted, so the couple had nowhere else to go.
Out came Tonks from the fireplace with a clumsy step, which promptly made her trip and fall to the floor. Harry appeared next, and having not seen Tonks on the floor, tripped over his wife and was on the floor just as she was. They both laughed as Kylie and his wife came running in, having heard the clatter. Kylie had his wand out, but upon seeing both Harry and Tonks on the floor in a fit of laughter, he smiled and put it away, tucking it inside his elegant crimson robes. "Glad to see your still as clumsy as ever, Tonks." Queenie giggled, rolling her eyes as the witch slightly.
"Unfortunately, its an affliction that never seems to go away." Tonks sighed, apparently not offended by the comment; Harry had made her realize, through his love, that being clumsy wasn't the worst thing in the world, and that people didn't think anything less of her because she was clumsy. "Happy Christmas!" She chirped, rising to her feet and giving Harry a helping hand.
"Merry Christmas." Queenie and Kylie said in unison, walking over to the pair and offering them both a greeting—a hug shared between the men, and a kiss on the cheek for the women. Harry looked over at the large tree that was in the corner, took out a few small boxes that seemed to be wrapped in paper that had moving carolers on it, and placed them under the tree with the rest of the presents that were already there. Then, waving his wand over the boxes, they jumped to a bigger size, filling out the space under the tree. After this, Kylie lead his guests into the dinning room, where a large, wonderful spread was laid out, consisting of all different foods.
There were cheeses, fruits, various breads and dips, and the centerpiece of the table was a beautifully roasted duck that glistened in oven-roasted beauty. Different kinds of vegetables were organized artistically around the duck, each with a glaze or another kind of delicious gravy. They all took their seats; the two couples on opposites sides of the table, facing one another. "It all looks so good," Tonks licked her lips, her eyes wandering over the duck.
"Queenie made all of it herself." Kylie smiled, kissing his wife's cheek; she blushed a little, bringing a rosy tint to her otherwise milky cheeks. Then, he stood up, grabbed his large knife and fork, and said, "Who wants some meat?"
"It does look good, Queenie." Harry nodded, passing his plate over to Kylie, who briskly cut a few pieces of the duck and placed it onto the plate. Harry handed his plate over to his wife, taking her plate and handing it back over to Kylie. "I always thought you would end up getting a house elf. After all, you do have a huge house and a lot of galleons in your bank, if I do say so myself."
"When we have kids, I'm sure we'll find a loyal elf." Queenie replied, taking a bite out of a piece of French bread. She dipped it into some sort of cheese dip, and then took another bite, giving into the taste.
"Are you trying?" Tonks questioned, a small, somber smile on her pretty heart-shaped face. Her thoughts drifted to her miscarried baby, bringing up a deep feeling of regret and sadness that went all the way to her core. She felt Harry rub her back, and she gave him a large grin, telling him that she would be okay.
Queenie waited patiently for Tonks to recompose herself before answering. "Not really. We would be if You-Know-Who wasn't around, but until then, no. We do want children, though."
"Voldemort will be gone soon, trust me." Harry whispered with confidence as he grabbed the butter to put some on his bread.
"I do, Harry." Queenie replied; her smile seemed to be contagious as they all smiled and laughed, enjoying the company. Silence loomed for the next few minutes as they ate their food, tasting everything that was on the table. Harry asked for seconds on the duck, digging into the scrumptious meat that was coated in a light marmalade like a hungry teenager.
After an hour, and with full stomachs, the group made their way into the living room, deciding to save dessert for later. A fire was blazing brightly in the fireplace, and the tree was beautifully decorated and lit up with charms. Kylie poured himself and Harry a snifter of firewhisky, while the females elected to have a glass of elderflower wine. The wizarding wireless was playing softly in the background, serenading them with Christmas carols that brought cheer to the room.
Kylie took a gulp of his drink, and then looked over to the frosty window, his gaze roaming his snow covered lands. "Tracey needs a place to stay. I'm afraid she can't be with us anymore, for fear of someone seeing her and ruining everything." He said as the women chatted amongst themselves.
"Yeah, Merlin forbid a Death Eater find her here, then we would have problems." Harry nodded, sniffing his firewhisky. "I could arrange a room for her with either Sirius, or maybe even Roger. Either way, I'll make sure she has a home until this is all over with."
"Good, I'll tell her tonight." Kylie nodded, finishing off his drink and pouring himself another. He swirled it in his glass, and looked over to the women—they were still discussing something funny, as they couldn't stop laughing.
"How many people know about your animagus ability?" Harry asked, quietly, making sure Tonks didn't overhear him.
"Just you and Queenie." Kylie answered, leaning close to Harry. "And presumably Tonks." He whispered, his eyes flicking over to the metamorphmagus.
"No," Harry shook his head in response to that assertion. "I haven't told anybody about you being an Animagus. Sirius questioned me about it once, asking who the person who became an animagus with me was and what their form was, but I never told him. No one else even has a clue about it."
"Why do you ask?" Kylie question, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow.
"You remember that task I said you might have to do for me?" Harry inquired, and then without waiting for an answer, he continued on. "Well, I think it's best if you move around while doing it in your animagus form. It would be a lot easier for you, and safer, too."
"Yeah, thanks." Kylie nodded, and then bit his lip. He sighed audibly, rubbed his forehead, and took a deep breath. "Harry, you're my best friend outside of Queenie." Harry moved to speak, but stopped when Kylie raised his hand. "No, no, don't tell me I'm your best friend, too, I know Cedric and Roger are—or Viktor? I never really did know which one it was."
"But we have grown closer over these troubling times," Harry conceded, his eyes fixed upon Kylie's, waiting for the man to continue on with his thoughts.
"Yes, we have." Kylie agreed, a joyful smile on his face. "Promise me that whatever happens to me, if anything ever happens to me, that both Queenie and my father will be taken care of. Promise me that you will protect my father and my wife as best as you can."
Harry raised an eyebrow and immediately nodded, wondering just where this was coming from. "You needn't have asked, friend. What you requested is a given in my eyes, but lets not dwell on that today. Instead, let's enjoy each other's company and enjoy the winter holiday."
Soon later, they had their dessert after that, and then enjoyed opening the gifts and presents that they had gotten for one another. Harry had received a novel written by Eccentrissa Frizzle that changed whenever she wrote a new story; it was a very expensive gift that most people couldn't afford. Eccentrissa was a popular novelist that wrote about various adventures in a magically enhanced muggle automobile that was able to travel anywhere it wanted to: it could fly, go under the water, go into space, and even shrink down to microscopic size. Tonks had received a clock that chimed every time Harry arrived or left their home or her parents were coming by. Kylie and his wife both got a set of charmed, sapphire paperweights that had the ability to communicate with each other's counterpart, allowing them to talk to each other no matter their location or distance between them.
Over all, everyone enjoyed their gifts immensely, as they were all thoughtful and special. After cleaning up the wrapping paper without magic, they all said their goodbyes and good wishes, and then Harry and Tonks disappeared in a flash of green flames, flooing back to their own house. Upon arriving, the couple had a nice, hot cup of tea as they each opened one gift that they had gotten for one another, a common practice that they had started their first Christmas together; they opened the majority of their presents on Christmas morning, but they each got to choose one, just one, that was under the tree to open the night before Christmas. They sat on a couch, staring into the fire once they were done, and immediately fell asleep, their stomachs full and hearts happy.
The next morning, the Tonks' and Sirius arrived earlier than the rest of the group that would be coming for the day's festivities, bringing so many gifts that they could barely fit under the large tree. Zeali hustled about, making sure the final touches of the decorations were put up and perfected. A long, wooden table that housed nearly twenty chairs was set up in the dinning room, plates and silverware on top of the silk green tablecloth that covered the wood. Christmas flowers of poinsettias, holiday cactus, and ivy and mistletoe littered the top of the table with their bright red colors, and when in conjuncture with the roaring fireplace, they created a sense of warmth that spread about the room.
The rest of the group began to arrive around ten o'clock, and all entered the house with bright and happy smiles on their faces. The cheer around the house seemed almost palpable, as if all the sadness and darkness that had engulfed their lives over the past few months had been washed away. The day began with a large breakfast; all twenty guests were laughing, drinking, and eating to their heart's content. Harry sat at one end of the table with Roger, Viktor, and Cedric to his right and left; Tonks and all of the women of the group at the other end; and in the middle were Sirius, Remus, Kingsley and Ted Tonks.
"I never got the chance to tell you before, but thanks for overseeing our businesses." Harry said, taking a bite out of the toast that he had just buttered. With a crunch, the bread crumbled in his mouth and he gave a smile, enjoying the taste. "Without you two, I think Cedric and I would have gone broke by now, and both of us would probably be living on Knockturn Alley."
"No problem, we're just glad that we could help with something." Roger replied, putting salt on his plate of eggs that he had just scooped out of the bowl. "We've felt so impotent during these last few months, almost useless. But we can't take all of the credit, Sirius helped out with it, too."
"Don't say that." Harry chastised, having loved, cherished, and respected all of their input and help when it came to the Order. Roger shrugged with a smile, dropping the subject. "So my old apartment building; was it as good of an investment as I thought it would be?"
Roger nodded, giving a small smirk. "It is in these times."
"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, curiously.
"Sirius came and put all of the defensive and protective charms he could on the place, its pretty protected." Roger answered, looking over at Harry. "People feel safe in there, so they moved in quickly; after all, since they live on Diagon Alley, if a Death Eater ever did attack, they'd have help right away with Aurors and Hitwizards and other magical folk being so close."
"So its full?" Harry questioned, somewhat surprised. He had never imagined that his idea would actually be a really good one. There were, after all, a good amount of apartments within the building itself, and when he lived there, he could never remember it being filled to capacity.
"Mostly, yeah." Roger replied, smiling. "An apartment or two is open, I think, but I haven't checked in a week." His eyes shifted over to Viktor, who was having a light conversation with Cedric, but had overheard the discussion that Harry and Roger were having. "Are those two apartments still open?"
"Yeah," Viktor agreed, adding, "One on the first floor that is right next to the entrance to Diagon Alley and your old flat, Harry."
Off to the side, Sirius excused himself from his conversation and tapped Harry on the shoulder once Roger had stopped talking. "Can I speak with you for a moment?" The older man questioned his godson, giving him a broad, mischievous smile. Harry nodded, rose from his chair and followed Sirius out of the room, an interested look upon his face.
They walked over to the doors that led into the first floor study and sitting room. Sirius grinned to Harry before throwing open the doors, allowing Harry entrance into the chamber. Hanging on the far-side wall was a large, cream-colored tapestry, with the name 'Potter' cursively written in blue ink at the top. Underneath, there were various names and dates listed, with lines drawn all around them, linking each to one another in some way. Around the tapestry was a boarder that looked like crashing waves of seawater in a rich, royal blue color that seemed to get brighter the darker it was in the room. The tapestry itself was quite big, covering nearly half of the wall; it was around seven feet tall and seven feet wide. Overall, it was a beautiful piece of work that had clearly taken a lot of effort to produce and make, and somehow seemed as if it was always meant to be in the room.
"Wow," Harry muttered, running his eyes over it from the door. "This is great, Sirius."
"I made one for myself, too. Left most of my ancestors out of it, keeping only the good people of my family—I also put the Hitchens and the Nigels in it. I've been spending a lot of time with Austrinus and Cepheus, and I met the rest of their family and the assorted wives and children. You know that girl that they were talking about? Lucida?" Sirius said, a happy smile on his face. "I met her…she is eerily cognizant for a seven month old. I can sense the power in her, and can't help but agree with them now about their statement that she's something special. Anyway," Sirius continued, not noticing that he was rambling. "We should get together with them some time. I'd…I'd enjoy that a lot."
"We will when Voldemort is destroyed." Harry answered, patting Sirius on the back. He knew the man craved family, craved for people to laugh with and cry with, having been ignored most of his life by his immediate family and then being locked up in Azkaban just a few days after his best friend was killed, he was clearly lonely most of his life. "It sounds like a lot of fun."
Sirius smiled and nodded, his cheer seemingly overwhelming him. "Well, Merry Christmas, Harry. I hope you like it."
"I do, its genius." Harry said, looking over to Sirius. "Thank you." They both made their way over to the tapestry to take a closer look. The dates went all the way back to fourteenth century, and seemed to incorporate twenty generations. At the top, the name that started it all was Bowman Wright—the metal charmer who had invented the snitch in the year 1356.
"Bowman Wright's daughter, Dryope Wright, married muggleborn Janus Potter, starting the Potter line." Sirius explained, tracing the lines with his right index finger. "They had a few sons; your branch, the only known surviving branch, hails from their last and youngest son named Emery." Sirius' finger scrolled over a few generations until it reached Charlus and Dorea Potter, and then he pointed to the name underneath. "Your father, and then you, see?" He grinned, sheepishly.
"What family did Dryope's mother, Bowman's wife Perpetua, come from?" Harry asked, wondering about Bowman's wife and if she was his link to the three brothers of the Deathly Hallows. He had been looking for that link the entire time Sirius was talking, but he couldn't find it or place it and couldn't help but wonder about it.
"There are rumors," Sirius whispered, almost as if what he was about to say had to stay a secret, hidden away from the world. "That Perpetua was the daughter of Ignotus Peverell, making you a Peverell in turn. It would work out," Sirius shrugged, his eyes lingering on the tree. "Because both Bowman, really the Wrights as a family too, and Ignotus Peverell were from Godric's Hollow, which is where the Potters are famously from. Plus, the Peverell name died out a long, long time ago; some even say it happened after Ignotus died, since he only had three daughters, and no male heirs to carry it on."
Peverell, Harry thought to himself, instinctively thinking to the half-destroyed golden ring that was in his study as he spoke. "This is amazing, Sirius. Thank you so much." Harry said slowly, gazing at the family tree that buzzed with the names of all his ancestors. "It means a lot to me."
"I know." Sirius replied, gripping Harry's shoulder. "When I get to the chance sometime next week, I'll look through my genealogy books that the Blacks had and see if I can prove you are a Peverell or not. If you want me to, I mean."
"Dumbledore believed I was." Harry told him, quietly, remembering the conversation the pair had had after Dumbledore destroyed the Horcrux ring. "He, himself, was related to them. Voldemort was too."
"Each hailing from a different daughter out of the three that Ignotus had, I would presume. Though, I happen to think that Perpetua was the only one who had children, being that no one that I know of, before now with Voldemort and Dumbledore, ever claimed the Peverell family as their ancestors." Sirius muttered to himself, looking over the tree as if he was solving some great problem. "It couldn't be any earlier than that, because I would have known about it when I was doing the research so I could make this. It could even be from the different Peverell brothers: there was Antioch Peverell, Cadmus Peverell, and the youngest and your rumored ancestor, Ignotus Peverell."
"The three brothers of the Deathly Hallows." Harry said, nodding with a small smile as the pieces fell into place of definiteness and vindicating all that Dumbledore had told him about both the Peverells and the Deathly Hallows. That ring, the ring with the Peverell coat of arms, or rather with the symbol for the Deathly Hollows, was the resurrection stone of Cadmus Peverell, handed down through the family line until it was Marvolo Gaunt's. The invisibility cloak that was his father's, and was now his, was the death-blocking cloak of Ignotus, handed down through the ages until it was finally in his hands. The Elder Wand, which was fashioned for Antioch Peverell, would have been passed down to Dumbledore, but it was stolen, taking it away from its rightful line of succession; that was until Dumbledore had won it back in that fateful duel against Grindelwald.
"Surely you don't believe in that, do you?" Sirius asked, his eyes flicking over to Harry. "That's just a fairy tale to teach children to mind their own business, don't go picking fights, leave stuff well alone and everything will be okay. I even heard it when I was a child, and I'm sure you would have heard it too if your parents hadn't died."
"My invisibility cloak is the one from the story." Harry replied, quickly lifting up his shirt, turning around, and allowing Sirius to see the image of the Deathly Hollows symbol that was on his back. It was small, barely the size of a bottle cap, and made of peach-skin color that made it almost unnoticeable; it was located on his right shoulder blade, as if it were a muggle tattoo. It was clearly a burn mark, rather than a purposeful design, that was engrained upon Harry's skin the first time he picked up the Elder Wand; it was a brand that the Deathstick bestowed upon its wielder, as if autonomously, presumably as it had done to the wizards and witches that had previously mastered the wand.
"I got it when Dumbledore died; the Elder Wand itself gave it to me." Harry explained, remembering that night in his workroom when the wand was buzzing in his desk. He couldn't help but touch the wand that night, the wand was calling out to him through his magic. "I have to hide it, though, because Viktor becomes flustered when he sees the symbol, being that it was Grindelwald's supposed mark and all—his grandfather was killed by him, along with a few other members of his family."
"The…the Elder Wand? You have it?" Sirius gasped, his eyes wide with shock. His gaze quickly shifted down to Harry's belt buckle, as if expecting the wand to be there. "But just the other day you said…"
"I lied." Harry told him, shrugging. "You know there's a spy in the Order; I couldn't tell everyone, or anyone for that matter, about me having the Elder Wand. It's my secret weapon against Voldemort, something that should stay hidden."
"This has me intrigued now." Sirius sighed, turning and walking over to the fireplace that was on the far wall. Harry followed him over, cocking an eyebrow, wondering what he was doing. "I want to see if I can find the Peverells in a book; I think I know just the one that would have it." Sirius explained before grabbing a handful of powder that was on the mantle, and then saying, "I'll be back in a minute." He threw the powder into the flames, called out his destination, and disappeared in a flash.
Harry threw his shirt back on just in time for the others to come into the room, each carrying a load of presents. Zeali, lagging behind the group, was carrying a large bowl of eggnog, which he placed on the coffee table that was in the room. Then, with a snap of his elfish fingers, an assortment of Christmas cookies appeared on a plate next to the eggnog. "Wow, where'd you get this?" Cedric questioned Harry, picking up a cookie and strolling over to the Potter tapestry that was hung up on the wall.
"Sirius made it for me." Harry smiled, coming up behind his best friend and examining the tapestry once again. "He's been making it for a few months, he said." The flames erupted again and Sirius appeared; he was carrying a large tome in his hands. "Speak of the devil." Harry laughed, as Sirius took a step out of the fireplace.
The man, noticing everyone had come into the room, put the book off to the side and went over to Remus as the werewolf scooped a few spoonfuls of eggnog into a cup. The pair went into a conversation of no great importance, watching as the rest of the attendees opened up a few of their presents and munched on the delicious cookies that Zeali had baked. Harry walked over to Lisa and Roger as the couple stared out the frost-covered window, looking out across the snow-covered land. They all stood silently as a small red fox ran across the panoramic, its small body barely hopping out of the thick snow. It stopped and sniffed the air, before scampering off into the woods, just as a snowflake fell from the sky.
"It's snowing!" Lisa yelled out, excitedly. She quickly ran over to the couch that housed her daughter, who was currently playing with Andromeda Tonks, and picked her up, bringing her over to the window to enjoy the snow just as the others took their place near the window as well.
Roger smiled at his young daughter, who was just eight months old, and kissed her cheek as Harmony giggled in her mother's arms. The entire group watched as the snow began to fall harder and harder, creating a sense of peacefulness and majesty for Christmas that was only seen in cards and advertisements. Tonks snuggled into Harry's shoulder as he put his arm around her, holding her close to his body. Cedric, meanwhile, instinctively pulled his hand away as it brushed against Gaetana's hand; it was the hand that Harry had created for him, the one he had grown to look at as a fake, a phony part to him, even if it resembled his real one exactly. She looked up at him with a small smile, and without thinking about it, took his hand in hers and held it tightly.
After a few minutes, they pried themselves away from the window, and began to open up the bundles of presents that were under the tree. Harmony, of course, had received the most presents with Harry, Viktor, and Cedric all getting numerous gifts for her, loving her as if she was their own daughter and making sure her first Christmas was memorable, even if she couldn't remember it herself. Her favorite item, it seemed, was a magical coloring book that came to life once someone had drawn an image on the pages: the image would move, dance around, and then return back to lifelessness after a few seconds. She giggled and cooed as Roger drew a snowman on the page, which did a spin and then twirled his silk top hat with a bow before going still again.
Everyone watched in amusement at the childish innocence that she displayed, knowing that the reason they were fighting Voldemort was so she and the rest of the children of the world could grow up in safety. "I miss getting together with you guys, you know, sitting around, talking and drinking some whiskey." Roger whispered, coming up behind Harry and Cedric as Harmony was whisked away by Lisa.
"We all do." Cedric muttered, sadly, a sudden feeling of disappointment washing over him. He hated how his youth, his friends' youth, and the golden years of his parents were being wasted, fighting off an evil, bigoted dark wizard. They all nodded, lost in that thought as they watched others enjoy Christmas, knowing that the darkest times were still in front of them.
Before long, it was three o'clock and with it came the Christmas dinner. Zeali had truly gone out of his way, as there were countless of meats, vegetables, and breads for them all to enjoy. It looked more like a Hogwarts feast than an intimate dinner for a small group of people. They all dug in with great excitement, filling themselves up with the delicious food. Afterwards, they went back to the study, and drank tea and coffee as they enjoyed their desserts.
As the night winded down, they all lined up for a picture to remember the day. With bright smiles on their faces, they all got in close to one another, husbands with their arms around their wives, and friends embracing one another as family. They all looked happy and full of joy, as if Voldemort wasn't out there, as if the last few months of darkness hadn't happened. Sirius, especially, having spent twenty years in Azkaban, was ecstatic, enjoying every passing minute of his first Christmas. As the flash went off, and their happy faces were frozen in time, who knew that for one of them, it would be their last Christmas ever.
AN: The Potter names mean something: the reason why the patriarch of the Potters is named Janus is because he is the Roman god of beginnings. So since he is the beginning of the magical Potter line, the name fits.
AN 2: Uh-oh, who is the one that's going to die? Any guesses? What about the traitor in the Order? Who do you think it is? Review and tell me who you think: if you get it right, I'll send you the next chapter sooner than the others will read it.
