Complications
As a rat skittered past their feet, Luna smiled calmly, instantly breaking the tension.
"You're different," she said.
"Yeah, I'm not—"
"Our Harry."
Her hair was up in a thick bun and Harry was delighted to see those stupid, radish-like earrings Luna liked to wear in his world.
If only everyone had believed me like she did… Luna was different to everyone else. She was wiser and far more open-minded to the world, even though at times he didn't understand what she was talking about.
The French woman who came with Luna, had positioned herself at the window, keeping a close eye on the fallen Death Eaters. She started talking in French and pointed outside to a Death Eater who was moaning in pain.
Ron threw a Stunner at him. "Come on, we've got to secure the Death Eaters before we move. The escaped one will be telling Voldemort what happened."
They diligently restrained the injured Death Eaters. The old woman, now sitting on the stone wall, kept hurling instructions about covering their tracks. Ron Obliviated the enemy before Luna called the French Aurors to collect them.
They quickly disappeared, hiding behind thick trees and it was then they heard the cracks of Apparating Aurors.
Luna pulled on his sleeve, breaking Harry's attention. He saw Marie and Ron had already begun briskly walking away.
"Marie is my mum's distant cousin, and she's a squib. She said we've got to lie low for a few hours."
"I agree," whispered Harry.
"So, who are you really?"
"I am a Mirror of Harry."
"I can believe that." Luna slowed down to observe at him. "You must tell me all about your world." She smiled wistfully. "I always thought Harry would search for me, but I thought, well, my gut was telling me you are different. Why did you want to find me?"
"I need to help Harry… Is your dad here?"
She nodded, constantly staring at him. "Come on, we better hurry up."
"Luna, did your mother die here?"
She suddenly stopped in her tracks.
"I'm so sorry." He cringed at his insensitivity. "I didn't mean to be blunt about it. You see, in my world, Luna's mother died when she was eight—"
She began walking again, forcing him to keep up with her. He felt like banging his head against a tree.
"My mother was talented and loved experimenting with spells and potions," she started. "When I was ten years old, Voldemort wanted to recruit her, but she refused… One day we went out looking for mushrooms and Death Eaters almost abducted us. She protected me the best she could, and as I escaped, they took her. She was later killed for being uncooperative."
Harry was left in a daze for a few moments and let the silence of the night wash over them.
"Where are you staying?" he asked, as he followed her up a hill.
Luna pointed past a few farms and beyond a patch of trees. Squinting, he saw a small house three hundred metres away. The small, whitewashed cottage was covered in pretty purple flowers.
"We knew Death Eaters would follow if a friend decided to visit that house. The alarms told us both friend and foe were there."
Marie had waited patiently for them at the front door of the house, with Ron, who looked a little uncomfortable to be near her. She pushed past them, with an old pipe hanging from her mouth, and her shotgun slung over her shoulder. Marie went straight into the kitchen and they all followed. Her grey, plaited hair reached to her waist and it swung in every direction as she opened cupboards, pulling out glasses and a bottle of absinthe.
"Make yourselves comfortable, I'll go get Daddy," Luna said.
Then Marie said something to her as she pointed at them.
"Marie wants your disguises off."
They looked at each other before taking a seat at the table. Harry hesitantly took off Ron's charms first, but when he did the same for himself, Marie gasped and gripped the edge of the countertop in fright.
"Looks like you're famous here too for the wrong reasons." Ron smirked, and then nodded towards a poster on the fridge, showing the faces of several the most wanted, dangerous Death Eaters. Harry's face was amongst them.
"Shut it," he mumbled.
Once Luna explained the differences, Marie slammed the glasses in front of them and poured them a drink, though it did not abate the suspicious look on her face. She didn't say much and maybe that was a good thing, because Harry didn't know squat in French.
Luna came down the stairs minutes later, gently pulling her father with her. "He's not going to harm us Daddy," Harry heard her say.
"He's—prisoner—come to kill us."
Mr Lovegood looked terrible. He was healthier, but it was obvious that he was still suffering from his confinement in Azkaban.
"Mr Lovegood," Harry said gently, getting up from the table. "We're not here to kill anyone. Ron is a member of the Order and I'm here to help. We just want to ask Luna some questions about an object Hermione gave her."
"You will not," he whispered hurryingly, every inch of him shaking. "We have no such evil here. Get out!"
"Daddy, calm down. They're friends of ours."
"NO!" Mr Lovegood yanked his wand out of his dressing gown.
"Woah!" Ron backed away.
Marie laughed. Her scratchy laughter was a sign of too much smoking. She banged the table, saying something in French, making Luna grimace.
"What did she say?" asked Ron, not daring to look away from Mr Lovegood's pointing wand.
"My father has become even crazier in prison."
Suddenly, there was a loud cluttering of tin buckets outside and a heap of swearing. They all turned towards the source of the noise. In panic, Harry thought a Death Eater had followed them.
Ron was the first to investigate the noise. He peered carefully out of the lace curtain and swore.
"That little—wait here," he told everyone. Opening the back door, he pulled somebody in by the scruff of their neck.
"GEROFFME!" Michael growled, straightening himself up. "OUCH! RON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
Ron was muttering something under his breath, and Harry saw the white glow of a spell pulling at the boy's features. Ron quickly stopped. "Just making sure you're really Michael Potter."
Michael yanked himself out of Ron's grip, rubbing his nose, looking at each and every one of them with mistrust. "What's going on here?"
Crossing his arms, Harry was not in the mood to be protecting his Mirror's little brother. "Why did you follow us?"
"I want to help you with whatever you're doing," he replied sharply.
"How did you follow us?"
"I've been watching you guys under my dad's invisibility cloak for a while. I touched the Portkey as well."
Harry did remember the crowded feeling he felt when he touched the Portkey.
"So you've been spying on us?" Ron reddened.
The boy blushed, but there was a cheeky smile on his face. He ruffled up his hair at the back, reminding Harry of his father.
"Michael, you really need to leave your brother's Mirror alone. You don't understand the danger we're all in," Ron spoke. "I'm sending you back home—"
"No, you're not!" he said defiantly. "I'm sick of sitting around, waiting for this war to end."
Harry shook his head. He didn't need to involve another person in this. "How old are you—twelve—?"
"Fourteen," the boy hissed. "I bet I know a lot more than you did at fourteen."
The little brother he might've had was infuriating and bold. "I fought Voldemort twice, a basilisk, Dementors, and survived a dragon by fourteen. Have you done the same?" He watched the boy grow pale and retreat slightly. "I thought so! Go home."
Still, none of Michael's defiance seemed to vanish. "But—this isn't your war!"
"Yes I know, but I have to help your brother."
"Help him? He murdered—"
"I am not having that discussion right now," Harry interjected.
Ron lifted a finger. "Hang on—did you curse one of the Death Eaters?"
Michael nodded. "You see, I saved your arses. I can help."
"Not quite," Harry snorted. "I did wonder where one of the hexes came from. You know, Ron, he might actually be useful before we send him back home for Lily to kill."
Luna was slightly amused as she helped her shaking father into a chair. "Come, let's go for a little walk—Daddy, nothing will happen, I promise."
Mr Lovegood was not convinced, spluttering about how evil and manipulative Harry was. Marie then tried to force some absinthe down his throat.
"A little fresh air will clear the air," Luna said. "The wrackspurts are overcrowding the kitchen."
Confused, Ron and Michael just looked at her, but Harry grinned. "Yeah you're right, Luna. Let's go."
After making sure Mr Lovegood was okay, they left and meandered through the darkened pastures. Michael trailed further behind them, deciding to keep his distance from Harry for awhile.
It was such a peaceful place. The air was clean and inviting, and the moon gave them light. But even here, there were tiny wisps of Dementor mist. Luna took them to a small brook, and sat down, playing with the little, closed up daisies in the grass.
They could see the abandoned house in the distance. There was light from a dozen wands, as Aurors continued their investigation on the property. He hoped Luna had covered their tracks well.
"I know why you're here." She licked her lips, staring at the moon. "I don't have the Stitch anymore."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Now what?"
"What did you do to it?" Harry asked, ignoring his Mirror best friend's burgeoning foul mood. He held his hand up, before Michael could start asking him questions.
"Daddy knew I had it and when he came back, he got rid of it. Apparently you tried to gather information about it in Azkaban?"
"Yes, I wanted to understand what my Mirror wrote on the cell walls."
"What did he write—?"
"Michael, shut up and let us talk," Ron clipped, ignoring the filthy look on the boy's face.
Luna sighed. "Daddy was so scared of its power, and scared we'd be killed because of it. There is a seedy Wizarding shopping strip in Montemarte, Paris. It is called Dissimule Rue. My father sold it there. But we must be careful, there are Death Eaters everywhere. The French are afraid of Voldemort and it is affecting our way of life now. In two months people and children have started to disappear in large numbers and the Dark Mark is executed into the sky. And as I'm sure you've noticed the mist is spreading here much more thickly now."
"Yeah and the French Ministry have enacted emergency meetings with the Muggle government, because they don't want a repeat of what's happened in England," Ron said.
Michael straightened up, looking at them all. "Our new Ministry is now asking for all the help we can get, both Muggle and Magical."
Ron nodded. "Bill said that in the last week, special alarms have been put in Muggle homes. Guns and spells… It's already helped catch Death Eaters and minimise deaths."
"That's great," Harry said, though he wasn't sure it was enough. "But we need to get this Stitch—"
"I will still help you look for it," Luna added.
When he focused on her, all he could see was sadness in her eyes. "Are you okay, Luna?"
She blinked and stared at the moon again. "I just wish Charlie told me and my dad in the beginning… Maybe he'd be alive now..."
"I know, but they didn't want to involve anyone else because it was so dangerous." Harry nodded. "Tomorrow, we'll go to Dissimule Rue."
Michael looked positively excited. Harry could see a lot of his father in the boy. He looked up, his hazel eyes bright. "I have no idea what you're looking for, but I'm in. But please tell me what the hell is going on!'
Harry placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Michael... Luna, I'm going to tell you something about Harry, Charlie and Jessica, but you have to promise me, that you won't say anything to your parents or any Order member until the war is over. There is a Taboo placed on this secret."
Harry had to admit, after a few horrified interruptions from Michael, he thought he wouldn't be able to get the boy to believe the story.
"What do you think, Luna? I mean, if a Mirror can appear from another world, then I guess this story can be true." Michael shrugged.
She had been silent throughout the revelation. "I believe it. Harry had many burdens to carry."
"But I don't understand," Michael pondered out loud. "Why would Voldemort go to all the trouble to make himself mortal again?"
Harry had wondered as well. "I think when Harry was made into a Horcrux, he did something to Voldemort. So that every time he created a new Horcrux, his power couldn't recover from the process, until he had nothing left. Voldemort wants his power back, and the only way he can do this is to get those fractured pieces of his soul back into his body."
"I doubt he'd use all the Horcruxes," Ron added.
"Voldemort isn't stupid."
Harry wondered how his Mirror was going to survive through this and how he was going to destroy his master. But he didn't want to think about it, because thinking about it made him think of his own impending death.
Ron sensed this. "Let's just focus on finding this Stitch thing tomorrow."
Harry nodded and yawned. They were all exhausted, and they weren't going to plan anything foolproof without rest.
Luna led them back and after another altercation with Mr Lovegood, Harry, Ron and Michael were shown into the spare bedroom. It was a small room, just as big as Harry's old bedroom at the Dursleys. He looked around in the silence as Michael fell onto the bed, letting out a sigh of relief after a hard day's work. The little clock ticked on the dresser, and dusty trinkets littered the shelves. But there were plenty of drawings around the room, of Charlie.
Ron yawned loudly and flipped Michael off the bed, lying down himself.
"Come on, Ron!" the boy protested.
Ron kindly threw him a spare pillow, while Harry made himself comfortable on the hard ground.
"Mate, do you want the bed?" Ron said guiltily.
Harry shook his head, he was fine as long he didn't sleep on his back. Besides, he didn't want to be fussed over anymore.
Luna wafted into the room with blankets and a tray of bread, with cheese and cold meats. "Daddy wants me to lock the bedroom door."
"Er, why?" asked Ron, now filling up some bread with cheese.
"He thinks Harry will murder us in our sleep."
"Can you guarantee he won't do the same to us?" piped Ron, before ripping a chuck of bread with his teeth.
Propping up on his elbows, Harry thought warily about Luna's father in his world, how he had betrayed them to the Death Eaters, well almost. Mirror Mr Lovegood could be up to anything. He placed his wand underneath his pillow in case.
"Just make sure he's alright," Harry replied.
"I will. Go to sleep, we'll plan everything tomorrow at sunrise."
She left them after bidding them goodnight and Harry lay awake for hours thinking, hearing Ron and Michael snoring. It seemed like they were battling each other for the title of the loudest snorer.
Finally, after sleep took hold of him, he woke up in an empty room. He found his Mirror staring at him.
"I am going to show you a memory," the Mirror drawled. "Take heed, Harry, there is important information in it. You'll need to know in the event I don't wake up in time."
He vanished in a wisp of pale smoke.
"Hang on!" Harry didn't like the sound of that. "You're going to finish this, not me!"
Although infuriating, Harry liked the new Mirror. No more bullshit, just straight to the chase. If only he had been like this in the beginning, Harry might've been home by now.
He walked through a mirror, landing himself in a dark slimy cell with minimal light. It was the same cell Mirror Harry had been in when Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters begun conditioning him.
He gasped. Harry saw his Mirror wounded, spread-eagled and taut in chains. A shiver of dread and revulsion sparked through him. The Mirror's feet were inches above the ground and he was having trouble breathing because of the positioning.
The door opened and Draco Malfoy and Emily Miles went down the rickety steps. Malfoy had a cup of water and bread, and Emily held a large bowl of steaming hot water and towels under her arm. Neither of them looked shocked, but then Malfoy hung back and was sick in the corner.
"Are you awake, Harry?" Emily asked softly, letting the bowl of water hover in the air.
"Ye-yeah… Is that… Draco… puk…ing?" His voice was hoarse and he was breathless.
Malfoy wiped his mouth. "Never—"
"Yes," Emily answered.
Mirror Harry laughed, but stopped when he coughed and spat out blood.
"Emily… if you're here… does this mean… Snape knows?"
"No. Outside of those responsible for your captivity, you know a Conditioned is meant to be kept secret until the Cliff."
Mirror Harry snorted before continuing. "She'd love… keeping… this information… from Snape… But… why are you here… then?"
"I was brought here by Lucius Malfoy. He has, ah, taken a liking to me." She rose the cup of water to the Mirror's lips.
"Let's not discuss about why my father wants you here," Malfoy spat, crinkling his nose. "Harry, I'm surprised you can stand the smell in here."
"You get… used to it…" The Mirror licked the precious drops of water from his lips.
"I could imagine my mother having a fit if the dungeon beneath our drawing room floor smelt like this."
Harry's eyes widened. The Malfoys' have a dungeon? Thoughts of Luna, Arthur and Remus imprisoned in his world, sprang to mind. That would be the first place he would start looking for them.
"Bellatrix doesn't give a toss what she does to her Conditioned, Draco," Emily spat. She plonked a towel into the bowl of water. "She killed her last one. The girl was only ten—here Harry, drink this, it will help you with the pain. I stole some potions from Snape's stores." She uncorked a small bottle she had retrieved from her robes.
"Thanks…" he drank it all in one gulp. Relief was instantly reflected on his swollen face. "Besides, Draco… what do you think… a lot… of the Conditioned… go through…? It's not fun… and games… it's torture, mind games... and for me... they've done so much more…"
"I've never cared. The less I know the better," Draco mumbled.
"Yet… here you are now, not caring…"
"Fuck you, Potter," he hissed. There was a hint of remorse and shame in his words.
The Mirror chuckled. "Draco… what happens… when you need… to condition a captive?"
Malfoy turned away, deciding to pry a rock from the wall.
Emily soaked the towel in the bowl and washed the Mirror's face with it. The Mirror shifted in his confinement, as Emily cleaned him down. Blooded water snaked down his body into a puddle.
"Why are you… both down here… anyway?" he asked. "What's the date?"
"It's August the third and my aunt is hosting a feast," Malfoy said, moving around the Mirror, bravely observing his injuries now. "They're plotting ways to bring down Hogwarts."
"I'd give up… my soul… to be a fly… on the wall…" The Mirror laughed, but stopped, in pain.
"The Dark Lord is expected here soon. Snape's not here. My aunt didn't invite him."
"But why did Snape let you come here, Emily—?"
"Because Lucius wanted me, and you don't want to say no to Lucius Malfoy," she replied. "But Snape gave me a stern talk, and told me to prepare myself for the worst."
"Never deny the Malfoys… of anything… Still… I don't expect… cleaning me… was part of it…"
Emily scowled. "Bellatrix killed all the house elves in her house, so I was ordered to prepare you."
"We think the Dark Lord wants to see you," Malfoy added with a ripple of fear over his face.
Harry saw his Mirror tense up at Malfoy's words.
"Draco just came along," Emily said.
Malfoy then tested Mirror Harry's chains, perhaps trying to find the mechanism to loosen them. "That's because I walked in on you and my dad, otherwise he would've showed you down here after your little rendezvous." He had a look of utter disgust on his face.
"He didn't do anything—"
"Whatever," Malfoy shrugged. "You're not the first and you won't be the last. My father likes vulnerable, milky-skinned girls."
"Me? Vulnerable?" She raised her eyebrows. "How long have we been acquainted Draco?"
"Awhile and how can I ever forget you hexing me? My hands didn't stop burning for days—"
She rounded on him and poked him hard in the chest. "All because you tried to grope me, you slimy little shit!"
Malfoy had to look up as she was inches taller than them and two years older. He jumped back warily.
"But now… we are all… wonderful friends…" Mirror Harry retorted.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes, not daring to look away from Emily. "Just make sure my mother doesn't find out, otherwise you'll be found dead under mysterious circumstances. My mother cares more about her honour than breaking the Dark Lord's laws."
Emily didn't look happy with this threat. She quickly composed herself, and tried to keep her emotions hidden as best she could.
"By the way, Draco," she purred, "your dad said something interesting when he forced you to come down with me…'
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He crossed his arms.
Emily stared into Mirror's Harry's blackened eyes. "Go with the girl and see for yourself what could've happened to you… I wonder what that meant…"
"Aren't you the smart little Ravenclaw, then?"
Mirror Harry managed through his pain to flick up an eyebrow. "Well you and I… both know… that Draco's heart… really isn't in this whole… Death Eater thing… and his parents know."
"Shut up, Potter!" Malfoy snarled.
"Well look at you," mocked Emily, "going against the wishes of your parents? Kudos to you."
If looks could kill, Malfoy could've murdered them all.
"I shouldn't mock you… after everything… you've done for me. I just… need—"
"—to vent your frustrations!" Malfoy sighed, angrily. "You're lucky I've made myself scarcely available to my aunt. I'm sure she would've enjoyed me putting you through some hell."
"If you have the guts for it—"
Malfoy's cheeks turned pink. Harry knew he was about to spurn some choice words, but Emily interrupted.
"We're not your enemies, Harry. We're trying to help you."
"You might need to shove that idea up his arse because he won't listen, Emily!" Malfoy snapped.
The Mirror remained quiet, and inhaled a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
Emily cleared her throat. "I'm almost done cleaning you," said soothingly after he hissed in pain.
"Cleaned… Nothing like a bit of target practice… for the Death Eaters… Listen… could you both do me something?"
"Write another message to Dumbledore, pretending to be you?" Malfoy whispered, bored. "Honestly, Harry, I don't know how long before he realises that the Sacred Cup of Merlin you're seeking for is all bullshit."
"He probably does and is just humouring you," Emily answered.
"Whatever…" Malfoy had finally figured out how to loosen the taut chains, holding Mirror Harry upright. "And I've seen Snape. He knows something's up."
The Mirror was lowered to the ground and slung his head back in relief. "Thanks." He cleared his throat and fell silent for a minute, learning to breathe normally again. "Just keep up with the lie for now."
"What do you want us to do?" Emily asked, covering him with a blanket.
He inhaled deeply, looking at his friends. "I need you two and Blaise to collect blood from the inner circle Death Eaters—doesn't have to be straight away, just the right time and place. Be smart about it—be very vigilant."
"You want us to free all the prisoners?" Malfoy asked in surprise. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"
"It'll be nice to fuck the Dark Lord over now, but not yet. It may be years before this war is over. It's time to start preparing in the event I don't make it out alive. Besides, I have a feeling the prisoners will all be at Hogwarts soon enough—and there will be many more to come."
"Harry, Hogwarts can't be taken over!" Emily said aghast.
"It will be. It will be just a matter of how and when."
He turned to Emily. "Listen to Snape. If I don't make it, make sure you do what he says."
Then Malfoy edged forward and whispered, "You need to stop fighting my aunt, Harry. Just give in."
Mirror Harry smiled. "I've given in to power before. I've learnt my lesson."
"This," Malfoy waved around at his horrible injuries, "is going to kill you. Cadwallader and Roux almost killed you last week. How much more can you go through—?"
"Just don't tell Snape I'm being conditioned."
Malfoy stepped back. "Why?"
"He doesn't know I'm a Death Eater."
"You're not!"
"I am, Draco," he said adamantly. "I wasn't and then I was. I can't keep lying to myself that I haven't enjoyed it."
"A lot of it you didn't."
"True… but then you get used to it. It drives you. It becomes a glorious competition… I don't want that to happen again."
"I know you won't—but if we tell Snape—besides, how do you know he doesn't—?"
"He doesn't, he would've cornered me by now. I never want to see that smug look on his face knowing that I've fallen like this."
"As you wish..." Emily swished her wand around the room, and a fiery glow from her wand instantly warmed the cell. "But I think he would help you, if he knew."
"He'd be killed the moment he starts sniffing around with his big nose." The Mirror shifted on the ground, closing his eyes. "You could tell Snape there're more of the Conditioned willing to fight for Dumbledore. The trick is to find them. There will be many more soon. You can maybe form a group or something. Tell them to get the blood from their Mentors. Don't say I'm a part of this plan until I'm ready."
Malfoy whispered again into the Mirror's ear. "I'm so sorry."
"This isn't your fault, Draco."
The memory blackened, signalling its end.
Harry stepped out, his Mirror staring out of the window, at the moon.
"When are you going to wake up?'
"I'm ready to enter the Light phase, but ah, I'm waiting until the perfect opportunity to do so. Did you feel the peace and serenity of that phase?"
"A bit, yeah."
The Mirror stalked over without blinking. "But it isn't as pronounced as it would normally be. We've just been through too much shit to ever feel its true effects.
"The Light phase is like the lull before the storm. It is also the only phase we experience after each level we progress through. For me it will be a very short phase."
The boy had gotten so close to Harry that again, he could see the gold flecks in his eyes. He took a step back, but the Mirror continued to invade his personal space.
"What do you want from me—?"
"Whatever happens in the next few days, I want the prisoners out first. In the event that there is a battle or siege at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord will kill all of them. Do you understand?"
"What about the Horcruxes and the Stitch?"
"That's not your problem."
"Not my problem? I've just risked my life trying to find the Stitch."
"How is that going?" He smirked.
Harry angered. "I am not going to free the prisoners for you!"
"Don't worry you won't be, but," the Mirror grinned, "things have gotten a little more complicated for us." He disappeared, leaving Harry seething.
He woke up, finding Ron, Michael and Luna discussing about Dissumule Rue. A large map was laid out on the desk. The morning sunlight welcomed them as it poured through the window. Harry hadn't seen the sun in many months and it was like seeing a long lost friend.
"Bad dream?" Ron asked with a sly look on his face.
He rolled his eyes in response, making Michael look at him curiously. "What are you guys discussing?" asked Harry, trying to flatten his bed hair and massaging his sore neck.
"Luna was saying that her father sold the dagger in this little alleyway," Ron pointed. "It also happens to be the most dangerous place in the street."
"Well, isn't that a big surprise!" scoffed Harry.
Luna spoke up. "There have been several attacks there. Three wizards injured and one dead in recent robberies."
"What sort of robberies?" Ron questioned.
"Potion supplies, illicit potions and unicorn blood… anything Dark. Last week Death Eaters tried to steal a jar of Veritiserum, but the owner of the apothecary destroyed the potion… it was a rather gruesome murder and they abducted her children."
Harry perused the map. There was a pawn store, a grocer, two apothecaries, and several robes shops. There were book stores a patisserie and a charcuterie as well, but most of the stores dealt with darker, more notorious things.
"My dad sold the Stitch in this shop." Luna tapped her finger on a store in a winding alleyway.
"What's sort of shop is it?" Harry looked closely. He recognised a word in the description of the shop, Mort.
"It deals with artefacts of the dead, Dark rituals, bones and flesh: both human and animal remains."
Ron had an expression of pure disgust on his face. "Well, er, I brought my dad's invisibility cloak—"
"Me too!" exclaimed Michael.
Harry narrowed his eyes when the boy pulled out the cloak from his pocket. It was just as silky and smooth, and he hoped Ron and Hermione were using it well in their world.
He quickly formed a plan. "Luna and I will disguise ourselves and go into the shop."
"What happens if the Stitch isn't there?" asked Michael.
"Well, then we will just have to continue looking for it," replied Harry. "Michael you keep yourself hidden at all times. Have your wand ready. And if something goes wrong I will yell out the word, Knargles, and you need to Disapparate."
"But," the boy curled his hands into fists, "I can't just leave you."
"Yes you can. You will and you will get help. But this is the worst case scenario," Ron said, slapping the boy on the shoulder.
"Luna and I will go first. Then you two," Harry commanded.
Ron snorted. "Side along Apparition, Mike? I haven't forgotten the last time you got Splinched. Fred and George still talk about it. Where did they find your legs again?"
"—In Papua New Guinea—in the belly of a Komodo dragon," Michael blushed, "half chewed."
Harry gulped, trying to imagine a large lizard finding a wizard's detached limbs in the middle of a forest.
After a simple breakfast of fresh baked bread with butter and jam, Harry turned Luna's hair black and her lips fuller and her nose more petit. She looked quite startling with her blue eyes in her new look.
Harry changed his appearance with shoulder length brown hair. He made his chin jut out as well. They're names were Henry Rogers and Lucy Thistle, and they were a happy couple.
Marie checked them over; making sure nothing about them was obvious to their true identities. She made sure they looked respectable in their robes. Then as Harry folded the map, she pushed them out of the house.
Mr Lovegood was strangely out of site. Then Luna told them that Marie had sedated him after he had tried to lock Luna in the closet to stop her from helping them.
"He's gone stark mad!" Ron blurted as he covered himself with his invisibility cloak. Michael followed suit with his own cloak.
"The Black Square did that to many people, Ron," said Harry. He thought at one stage, he may end up mad too.
He Apparated with Luna and after a dizzy moment, they popped into a dark slimy alleyway, they had all agreed on. It was only wide enough to let two people through at a time. The boys appeared seconds later at the other end.
"Psssssssst," Ron whispered, showing his head briefly. "This way."
They followed in silence. Harry's fingers were sweating as he gripped his wand tight and his heart hammered. They pulled their cloak hoods over their heads for extra security.
He could see figures rushing by, doing their daily errands. It was drizzling, wet, and the cold chill did not make this expedition more pleasant. Harry and Luna confidently strode beyond the little alleyway, earning strange looks from passer-bys, who were probably Dissumule Rue's most regular inhabitants. Some bolted in the opposite direction, frightened they might be Death Eaters or Aurors. But none questioned them and clearly none wanted to be questioned themselves. Many wore their hooded cloaks over their faces, and were whispering to their friends. Harry saw many exchanging things.
"They're selling an illicit potion," Luna whispered. "No one knows its true name. It gives its user a sense of peace and happiness. It is becoming a major problem here since the influx of refugees."
He guessed what that potion was, having been given it sparingly in Azkaban. "Luna, your dad?"
"We buy it for him sometimes…"
"He really needs help. That stuff will damage him."
"I know, and Marie and I are thinking of seeking help from the Order. It's just he's had this tight control over me ever since he returned. He can get violent sometimes."
Horrified, Harry adjusted his cloak when a shiver went through his body. If someone really needed the Tantibus Mentis Potion, it would be Mr Lovegood.
He kept his fingers on his wand hidden beneath his cloak. He did not like this place. After a brief experience in Knockturn Alley as a twelve year old, Dissumule Rue seemed worse, and dirtier.
After walking casually through the winding, decrepit street, for what seemed like an eternity, it started to rain harder but, Luna pointed to a little store with a large red sign with a white skull on it. It read in French, La Mort Nous Vivon: In Death We Live. Harry looked into the tall dusty window and saw candles hovering everywhere, while brown skulls adorned the shop window.
"Let's go inside," Luna said, looking over her shoulder. There were three hooded witches at a tiny café, staring at them, and muttering amongst themselves.
Harry grimaced, looking around the street, knowing that the boys were nearby, waiting to enter the shop. The door tinkled as they entered, and immediately the musty smell of leather, earth and rotting flesh hit Harry's nostrils. It almost knocked him out. Luna on the other hand, seemed unfazed. He then felt the wisp of an invisibility cloak brush his hand as the boys entered.
Skulls were everywhere, from the tiniest, belonging to a baby, to a lumpy large giant's skull sitting by the corner. Harry also spotted a pile of bones creating a feature wall to one side of the shop. A dragon's head and a litter of fangs and sharp teeth were at another end. They passed shelves filled with more precious items, and cabinets filled with pickled body parts, animals, and heads which stared back. Animal carcasses hung from the ceiling and in the middle of the floor was a coffin. Harry was afraid to think that there was a body in it. While the dusty lamps on the walls had shades made from human skin, complete with tattoos.
"Bonjour."
They jumped at the voice. A wizard, with papery skin and a large belly slithered from behind the counter towards them. He wore blood red velvet robes with large black buttons. His hair was not his own, but a curly grey wig from sixteenth century high fashion. The wizard also wore the wariest look on his face, and Harry could tell he was judging them fiercely. A seemingly young couple entering his shop would've been a rare sight, and very dubious indeed.
"Comment puis-je vous aider?"
Luna cleared her throat. "We are looking for a gift for a friend—a dagger, perhaps?" she asked in English, startling Harry.
"Ah, English are you?" The store assistant raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"Well, refugees really," Luna replied, batting her eyelashes.
"Oui, oui, oui, refugees, of course," he said. "What sort of dagger were you thinking of, Mademoiselle? 'Dis isn't the sort of store you vould find pretty daggers for pretty, little girls to buy." He tapped his fingers over his large stomach as he glided towards them.
Harry gripped his wand tighter, not liking the wizard even more. The wizard noticed when his eyes roved on him.
"Or pretty boys for ze matter…" He stared at Harry intensely. "You have such lovely eyes… a rare colour. I would pay handsomely to buy them off of you now."
"No thanks. My eyes are perfectly fine in my eyesockets," Harry snarled.
The wizard looked disappointed. He turned around and returned behind the counter.
Luna linked her arm around Harry's, forcing him to towards an interesting cabinet of trinket boxes made of silver, bone and precious stones. They could see the wizard rummaging underneath the counter from the reflection off one of the boxes.
They strolled to another shelf, where a long iron wrought spear sat on a crimson cushion. Luna almost touched it, before the wizard yelled at her not to.
"Why?" Harry spat, forcing Luna's hand back in fright.
"No one touches Vlad the Impaler's favourite spear!"
Harry's stomach churned at that thought what the spear might've done in the past. When he closed his eyes he saw Brodes holding up that bloodied, sharpened stool leg Harry had tried to kill him with. He shook his head, shattering the memory.
"Now come 'ere, ze both of you, before you cause some damage to yourselves… That spear has Dark power."
"Maybe you should put up a Do Not Touch sign," retorted Harry.
As they returned to the counter, he heard the wizard muttering something about stupid English fools flooding his country.
The wizard pulled a box onto the counter and unlocked it. He pulled out a huge roll of brown leather and quietly unfurled it. Letting it sit on the counter. Within the leather, a dozen daggers glittered back at them in their polished silver, bronze or gold and iron. Some were made from bone or tasks. Precious stones sparkled and inscriptions in forgotten languages suddenly glowed eerily back at them.
"Do any of ze daggers interest you?"
Luna shook her head. "No, I was thinking of something a little more ancient than these, something more Dark and powerful."
"And why," the wizard leaned forward, licking his lips at Luna, "vould a pretty, little girl, be interested in a Dark artefact?" Again, there was that calculating look on his face. If he had suspicions about them before, Harry knew alarm bells would be ringing now.
Without clear thought, Harry grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him over the counter. "I'd appreciate it, if you don't talk to my girlfriend like that!" he hissed.
"Of course, of course, of course," the wizard replied, rubbing his neck when Harry let go, and readjusting his skewed wig. He cleared his throat as he flattened his robes. "However, I vould like to know what brings a lovely young couple like yourselves into my shop? And do not lie 'dis time, merci."
Luna feigned shock. "Monsieur, we are looking for a priceless heirloom which was stolen by our family friend weeks ago—a man with long blonde hair. I must have it back."
The shopkeeper grunted. "And what does this dagger look like?"
Luna described it, but the wizard shook his head. Harry felt as though they were never going to find it.
"Mademoiselle, I do not 'ave it anymore. I sold it four days ago. And I am glad to 'ave gotten it out of 'ere. It possessed power I do not wish to ever experience again."
"Can you remember who you sold it to?" Harry asked.
"We-we do not reveal the identities of those who sell or buy items fr-from us," he stuttered nervously.
"But you do keep such information?"
"For the Aurors— please mademoiselle, please do not tell the Aurors we 'ave bought a stolen object." The wizard's brow began to sweat. "The fines are monumental and one more fine, I will be forced to close this shop."
"Oh I won't do that to you, I'm not that sort of person, sir, but I would really like to know who bought it from you." Luna batted her eyelashes, talking rather beautifully in French now. She lightly touched his liver spotted hand, making the wizard blush, and in turn, making Harry's stomach churn much more.
The wizard was speaking in French and as he wiped the sweat from his brow, Harry looked around the shop, wondering if Ron and Michael, still invisible, were trying not to vomit.
The wizard disappeared around a thick door with plenty of locks. Harry craned his neck, watching the wizard search through the record books. He came back, slipping into Luna's hand, a broken bit of parchment. Luna quickly hid it.
"Do not ever come back," the wizard warned.
"Agreed!" Harry said shirtily, opening the store door.
He followed Luna out and they both briskly walked down the street to the little alleyway they had arrived in. "He gave me an address," Luna whispered, as they past a robes shop and turned at the corner.
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Let's go now."
Luna flattened the parchment. Harry read the name Stephen Huxley, but the shop owner had known it was a fake identity, and wrote in brackets, Mr Edric Ibbott, and wrote the real address.
"He's English," Ron said out loud. "Hang on, that name rings a bell."
"Bells or not, we really need to get out of here," Harry whispered.
That was when the screaming started. A dozen witches and wizards were fleeing the alleyway to their right. Harry forced everyone back as something large and green erupted into the sky. The Dark Mark. They rushed back to the apothecary corner to see what was happening. They saw Death Eaters at one end and Grindelwald supporters at the other end.
"GO. GO!" Harry yelled. Luna grabbed Ron and they all linked arms and Apparated.
They appeared in the underground of a Metro station, seconds after a train had past. The humid, putrid air swirled around them as they panted, relaxing slightly after that near miss.
"Fucking hell!" Ron swore, shaking his head.
"That was close," Michael whistled, running a hand through his hair.
"Right, so what's this address we've got?" Ron asked, picking the slip of paper straight from Luna's fingers.
"A château outside Lyon," Luna replied wistfully.
They sat down on a bench, surrounded by people waiting to catch trains, thankfully none had noticed them arrive, too busy listening to music or reading.
When it was time to leave, Harry led them around to a more secluded spot, next to a broken down toilet block, Apparating again.
"Where's the manor?" Michael asked.
The area they landed in was in an empty green field. "It's here, just protected with magic, can you not see the shimmering gold haze?" They all shook their heads.
"We aren't Mages, Harry. You can see things we can't," Luna said. "Can you remove the charms?"
"I'll try." It took several minutes and more concentration he'd ever enlisted in his life, but it worked. They watched the protective charms surrounding the area wash away.
"Wow, that's huge," blurted Michael and Ron gasped in awe.
Thankfully, it wasn't raining, and the clouds here were starting to disperse as Harry focused on the château. Ahead of them, the large residence had a manicured garden that would've made Aunt Petunia so jealous.
With a great deal of hesitancy they walked past the broken gate, and down the path.
Harry gripped the bronze lion head doorknock and tapped three times. The knocks reverberated throughout the dwelling.
A thin man opened the door, his watery brown eyes squinting at them all without a smile. "Who are you, and how did you remove the spells?"
"Hello, Mr Ibbott," Harry started.
"English?" the wizard asked.
Harry saw the wand poking out of the wizard's robe sleeve. Harry wondered if the wizard was running from the war back in their country.
"My name is Henry and this is Lucy. May we come in? We're sorry about removing your protections, but we have some questions—"
"No," the wizard refused. "You did a stupid thing. You've put us in danger!"
Harry raised an eyebrow and backed a step away from the doorway as Mr Ibbott quickly repaired the protective charms behind them. "Sir, we have a couple of questions about—"
"We are nobodies—nothing here—go away!" The door was slammed shut in their faces.
"Well that went down well," huffed Ron under his cloak.
"SIR, WE JUST WANT TO KNOW IF YOU HAVE A BLACK DAGGER," Harry yelled into the keyhole. He was surprised to see a mother and three young children huddled together at the end of the hallway, clearly terrified. Mr Ibbott was pacing up and down, twirling his wand. "We don't know what happened to you, but it's important we speak to you about a dagger you bought days ago."
"How the hell do you know that?"
"The shop you bought the dagger—"
"I'll murder him!" Mr Ibbott growled. "I gave him fake details."
"We'll, he's obviously done a bit of investigating himself."
The door creaked opened and Harry saw a watery eye peering at him. "But why is that dagger so important to you? It is only a fake werewolf cure with strange power."
"That dagger is of vital importance to the war. You will be in danger if Voldemort finds out you have it."
The wizard relaxed slightly. "You said his name."
In that moment, Harry realised it was more than just the war they were running from. "Mr Ibbott, we are members of the Order of the Phoenix." He hoped to gain a filament of trust.
The wizard opened the door wide. "Come in. I will show you where it is. But you must surrender your wands to me."
Harry didn't like the sound of parting with his wand. As they entered, they reluctantly handed over their wands and the wizard handed them to his wife for safekeeping.
"Why are you so scared?" asked Harry, staring at the family who were quiet and miserable in the dark corner.
"Do you think my family and I are here in France for a holiday?" The wizard showed them up the stairs.
But Harry stayed where he was. "You go first." He didn't feel safe with the wizard behind them, especially since Mr Ibbott had a wand.
Before they climbed the stairs, Harry heard Michael whispering. "Mr Ibbott is a Death Eater—in the inner circle."
It made Harry more edgy. Strangely, his gut was telling him that he could trust the man.
The upstairs quarters were dark and dusty, yet paintings of ancient wizards decorated the walls, and shelves filled with dark objects glittered as they walked past. The house reminded him of Grimmauld Place. They stopped outside a room with a red door and it looked out of place in the dreary hallway.
"Mr Ibbott why are you in hiding?" Harry asked. "Are you a Death Eater?"
"Was—now a member of the Order. I do however still like the Dark Arts. The subject is of great interest to me and I collect many unusual objects." The wizard unlocked the door and entered first.
"Why are you here and not fighting for the Order?" Harry stopped short of entering the room. Luna squeezed past.
"Because the Dark Lord found out, and Dumbledore told me to go into hiding. We move houses once a week." He stopped. "I don't need you judging me when I have let you in," he said, angering. "Now, do you want to have a look—?"
But something was not right. The lamps suddenly blazoned to life, and from the corner of Harry's eye he saw something clad in black, blurring quickly behind a shelf. The window was wide open, letting in a gust of a crisp breeze.
The wizard's wand flashed out of his robes.
"Show yourself!" Mr Ibbott yelled.
Then Harry noticed that a glass cabinet, filled with Dark artefacts was wide open.
There was a loud bang and smoke filled the room. Luna ducked and Harry barely could make out that there was not one, but three black robed wizards rushing to the window. Two jumped out, but one hesitated.
"NO!" Harry yelled.
The unknown wizard turned around, his golden mask glinted in the lamplight. He threw a curse at them, before jumping out as Harry ignited a Shield Charm around them all.
Harry rushed over and leaped out to his friends protests. He landed softly on his feet and began chasing the wizards into the nearby woods.
"Come back—!"
A red spell sizzled past his ear, as two Disapparated. Only one remained. He stopped running and turned around to face him.
Harry halted an inch from the wand pointing at his chest. They were panting now, energised by the chase. He glared at the gold mask. It was smooth, and it looked like it was moulded from an ancient roman bust. Except on its chin, there was the symbol of the Death Hallows.
Grindelwald's elevated his wand. "Don't follow us, boy. We mean no harm to anyone—"
"But to steal—give me that dagger!"
"It's gone. If you want it, Harry Potter must come and find it."
What the hell was Grindelwald up to? Harry suddenly felt uneasiness within him and a shiver went through his body. Then his mind opened up to another force. Oh no, he thought.
"Oh yes…" his Mirror hissed.
Harry felt at peace again, but his mouth was moving against his will. "Can you send Grindelwald a message for me?"
"What the hell are you doing, Harry?"
"What is it, boy?"
He felt his hand rise, yet he had no control. It was a power much stronger than the Imperious Curse.
The Masked wizard unexpectedly dropped his wand and rose into the air, gargling for breath.
"HARRY, DON'T DO THIS!"
"You tell Grindelwald that he may rise beyond what is expected of him, but he will never have Harry Potter by his side. Got that?"
The wizard, clutching his throat in midair, nodded.
Harry felt the power release him and his mind closed. The wizard fell to the ground, gulping for breath. Harry could see a wide blue eye staring at him in shock from his skewed mask.
Grindelwald's supporter skittered away and vanished with a crack.