Stepping Back

by TheBlack'sResurgence

Post-OOTP. The episode in the DOM has left Harry a changed boy. He returns to the Dursley's to prepare for his inevitable confrontation with Voldemort, but his stay there is very short-lived. He finds himself in the care of people who he has no choice but to cooperate with and they give him a startling revelation: Harry must travel back to the 1970's to save the wizarding world.

17. The Rogues' Downfall

A/N

I promised this before Christmas, and you have my apologies for not delivering. I managed to get some temp work to tie me over for the holidays and just didn't have the time, so again, I'm sorry.

There is a long A/N at the end of the chapter with a better explanation and a few things I would like your opinion of, so please do take a look. Anyway, onwards with the chapter you are here to read.

TBR

Chapter 17: The Rogues' Downfall

It had taken several days before Harry had been allowed access to Rabastan Lestrange, who was being held for his involvement in the attack against Lily, Alice and Marlene. In the intervening time between leaving the meeting with the Unspeakables' and this rendezvous, much had occurred.

Firstly, and though it had taken him weeks to act, Randolph had attempted to have his son released from Ministry custody but had failed miserably in the attempt. He'd had his fair share of support within the Wizengamot, particularly from those of the darker disposition, but it had ultimately been the Minister herself that had buffeted the effort. She had merely explained the evidence they had against him, his suspected involvement and the nature of the alleged incident. The Wizengamot had taken only a few moments to deliberate on the outcome of the appeal and it had been swiftly denied by the majority, leaving Randolph Lestrange fuming as he exited the chambers.

This had left Harry unable to be utilised in the way he was needed. Rabastan had the right to legal-council from the family solicitor who could seemingly demand access to the young man at his own convenience, meaning this could be any time of day he chose. This led to further investigation being put on hold whilst the politics ran its course. It was imperative that the involvement of the Department of Mysteries remained unknown in the interim while they carried out their work; it would not do well to allow their own efforts to come to light after all. To prevent this, Rabastan had been obliviated of all encounters with those cloaked in grey and was under the impression that he had spent his days in the Ministry holding cells. Harry himself would not approve of such an action in most circumstances, but it was a necessary evil he had to endure to make the desired progress.

After the appeal for bail had been denied, Harry had received word that he was now required to carry out his part in ascertaining the depth of the Dark Mark, something he had his suspicions of, but not something he had definitive answers to.

Upon his return to the department via the Minister's fireplace, he had been led to a sparse, stone room with the only furnishing being a chair adorned with shackles in the centre. He had only had to wait for a few moments before Lestrange had been brought in and placed in the chair by two of his cloaked associates, masked and protesting at the unexpected treatment he was receiving.

Having taken a moment to quell the urge to harm the boy for his part in what had transpired, Harry conjured himself a chair and rolled up the left sleeve, revealing the expect, somewhat sentient mark.

He simply studied it for a moment and hummed appreciatively at the magic he could feel within it. Despite his feelings towards its creator, he both marvelled at and respected his abilities, it would be foolish not to.

He was pulled from his observations of said mark by a defiant laughter emitting from Rabastan.

"You'll never figure it out," the young man chortled confidently.

Harry smirked as he seized his wrist in a tight grip, causing Rabastan to wince in discomfort. He placed his hand on the mark for the first time and began analysing what the Dark Mark consisted of, the results much more than he expected.

Having grown accustomed to the grasp of the man holding him, the youngest Lestrange was content to sit and wait for the inevitable failure in the attempt of his captor, completely certain that his masters' mark could not be deciphered by any. The man was the most powerful wizard he had ever been in the presence of and the Ministry had no idea just what was coming.

His confidence soon crumbled however as the man that held him hissed, causing a familiar chill to run down his spine, the very same chill he experienced the first time he heard the snake language being uttered. His eyes widened within the confines of his hood and he fruitlessly struggled against the grip and bonds that held him.

"Impossible," he muttered in disbelief. "He is the only one."

The hissing continued as did the efforts of the captive man, him being unwilling to allow his mark to be inspected any further. This continued for some moments as an escaped prevailed, though not one Rabastan would welcome. The escape that occurred was from his own lungs as his mark flared agonisingly, causing him to perspire, shiver and almost lose consciousness from the onslaught.

"Interesting," the man muttered as he released his grip, seemingly satisfied by his deductions.

Rabastan could only pant, his breathing laboured and exhaustion settling firmly in as he heard the echoing footsteps of whom he now viewed as his interrogator before the door slammed shut, leaving him alone, terrified, but equally relieved that the machinations had come to an end for now.

(BREAK)

Upon exiting the room, Harry walked the short distance to the office he had arrived in and was granted immediate entry as he finished knocking on the door.

He entered to find the Unspeakable he was now accustomed to conversing with sat behind his desk, an untidy mess of papers fanned out across the surface in front of him.

"Well?" the man questioned impatiently.

Harry calmly took the seat opposite and folded his hands in his lap before responding.

"It is just as complicated and as simple as I expected," he offered cryptically.

Harry could almost feel the frown that the cloaked man was sending his way. He waved him to continue irritably with little more than the gesture itself and a low growl.

Harry snorted slightly but complied nonetheless.

"I expected it to be a series of charms, and that is exactly what it is but there are also some runes and a curse. What makes it complicated is that he has managed to create an enchantment that ties all of them together as a continuous sequence," he explained.

The cloaked man shook his head.

"That is not simple magic," he muttered.

"It's not," Harry agreed, "and it is made even more complex by how it has been cast and what the mark is capable of."

"And that is?" the man sighed.

Harry shook his head ruefully.

"The mark itself is sentient," he sighed. "It's parasitic, feeding off the magic of its' host. There is a Protean Charm, a Portkey Charm and several kinds of Loyalty and Compulsions imbued into it."

"Strong enough to counter Veritaserum," the greycloak grumbled.

"And Legilimency," Harry added. "The mark is a defence against both."

"Shit," the man growled in frustration causing Harry to chuckle.

"There is a silver lining," he offered.

"Pray, tell me this silver lining," the man demanded sarcastically.

"Voldemort's arrogance."

"His arrogance?"

Harry nodded.

"He cast the spells in Parseltongue believing that he was the only one capable of speaking it, and therefore, the only able to break it."

The man stood suddenly, his posture quite tense.

"And you believe you can?" he questioned seriously.

Again, Harry nodded.

"I can, but it won't be easy, and I can't be certain of what would happen to the carrier," he warned.

"Is it likely to kill him?"

Harry shook his head in the negative.

"From what I know of Tom, he wouldn't want them dead before he learns how the magic was broken, so that he could ensure it wouldn't happen again," he surmised.

"So why the reservations?"

Harry dragged a hand through his hair.

"Because the mark is parasitic, I believe it will attempt to keep it's hold by any means necessary, even draining the host completely of any available magic," he shrugged.

"Leaving him a squib," the man mused aloud. "That could complicate matters further."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"Leave it with me, for now," the Unspeakable seemingly decided. "I will have to discuss this with the Minister."

Harry bowed slightly and stood to leave.

"Good work, Potter," the man praised. "I'll admit, I wasn't keen on bringing you in on this, but you're certainly proving your worth and ability. Have you considered doing this as a career?"

Harry snorted slightly.

"I've not thought much beyond any of this," he returned. "I can't even consider a future that isn't certain."

"You should," the man advised. "From what I have seen, I have very little doubt in our and your success."

Harry smiled gratefully and headed towards the door.

"You were brought to my attention some time ago by a colleague of mine. He was very impressed on what he had seen, and it seems that was only a sample of what you are capable of," he spoke sincerely. "Think about it, there are many benefits to this career for someone such as yourself."

Harry acknowledged the words with a single nod and exited the room.

As much as he wanted to think about a future, he couldn't. There was nothing more that he wanted than to survive this and live in the peaceful bliss he had always desired with a family around him and friends not tainted by the loss that war brings. He dreamed of this still and had only recently begun to believe that it was a possibility, a possibility that he could almost feel in his grasp.

(BREAK)

Halloween came and passed with no fanfare, seemingly with much disappoint from students and staff alike. It now appeared to be expected that those within the castle would be treated to some entertainment at feasts by the Marauders, who were quite baffled by said disappointment their peers and professors had expressed. They hadn't intentionally boycotted their efforts. The full moon had been close to the 31st and Remus was the vital component of the intended prank. He had however become sickly before his part could be completed, thus the postponement of their activities.

Even the Headmaster himself had been rather subdued and somewhat melancholic throughout the feast which had taken on a sombre tone once it had become clear there would be no festivities this time around. Dumbledore had even shot the group a questioning glance, eliciting nothing other than an apologetic shrug from each.

Harry speculated that those dwelling within the school needed distracting or uplifting from the dire occurrences taking place outside the safety of the walls. The school had become much more peaceful since the departure of the elder Slytherins, but their exiting only added to the worry for the loved ones in general society, whose enemies were now seemingly bolstered beyond what they had been, though not by much and not of the worst calibre.

November passed quickly as the colder weather settled in and winter approached Scotland just as briskly. Harry had received one missive from the Unspeakable in the intervening days simply explaining that the Minister is considering what options are now available to them.

He had merely shaken his head at the news. He knew the only feasible option they had would be to proceed with deciphering the mark further. He understood the precarious position the Minister found herself in, both morally and politically, but it was the only way he could see that would allow them to make the required progression.

Despite all the politicking and the cold weather, the teen was content with how everything else was falling into place around him.

Bellatrix was happier than he had seen her since her difficulties began. She had been spending a considerable amount of time with Andromeda and her Mother planning the upcoming nuptials while he was at school. Being in the castle had also become much easier for the young man. Lily had now satisfied her curiosity about him mostly, and had stopped asking difficult questions, allowing themselves both the opportunity to enjoy their time together with the rest of the group. The relationship between them was still rather tense to a degree in some aspect but he was largely content with how things were. The only thing that plagued his thoughts, as it always had, was Voldemort.

The Dark Lord had been quiet, much too quiet for Harry's liking. There had been nothing in the press regarding the man or what himself and his followers had been up to, where they were, or what nefarious schemes were being concocted by them.

The man lurked on the edge of his conscience always, and though there were times he would become lost in any pleasant moment he may find himself with, be it with Bellatrix or his friends, Tom was always there, a darkness tainting the light he had found. Although he didn't fear the man as he once had, it was an unwelcome presence, one he was impatient with allowing to linger.

It was not until ten days of December had passed that he received further communication from the Unspeakable. He had been training with the other Marauders, Lily, Alice and Marlene when an equine patronus arrived and delivered its' vocal message.

"Seven PM, tonight," it said before dissipating before their eyes.

Harry nodded before once again turning his attention to the others, who had by now come accustomed to him receiving his correspondence in a variety of ways.

"Fiendfyre," he said without preamble. "What do you know about it?"

Each looked to the rest questioningly. After a few shrugs and gestures for one to answer, Lily offered her insight on the subject.

"They are cursed flames," she began confidently. "There's not much known about them and their origins are still debated."

Harry nodded.

"True," he concurred. "It's a very difficult thing to understand without summoning it."

"Summoning?" Alice asked with a frown.

Again, Harry nodded.

"The results of elemental types of magic is in almost all cases dependent on the power of the caster. Fiendfyre is the only known exception to this rule. From my experience, the results are equally powerful, no matter who summons it."

"So, it's like summoning an animal?" Marlene broke in with a frown.

Harry smiled encouragingly.

"It's close. But there are some key differences."

"Like what?" Peter interjected interestedly.

"An animal you summon or conjure is usually very easy to control. Fiendfyre is notoriously difficult to manage. There are only two types of people that would do it. One would have complete confidence in their ability to do so, and the other would be a complete fool. Fiendfyre is as dangerous as magic can be, but it can be beaten if you are mentally capable of doing so or have the magical power."

"Best to avoid it then," Sirius muttered, shaking his head.

"What do you mean mentally?" Lily questioned.

"If you are strong-willed, stubborn to fault really, then you can control it, if it is what you have summoned. In some form it must obey, but only if it senses that you are powerful, and it respects you."

"You speak as though it's alive," Marlene said flatly.

"It is to some degree, just like a Patronus," Harry mused aloud. "There's just not enough known about it to be certain," he finished with a shrug.

"So, how do you stop it?" Remus asked.

"There's not a particular spell. The best way to describe it is throwing a combination of magic and mental power at it and hope it submits," Harry responded thoughtfully.

"It's so confusing," Alice sighed.

Harry snorted.

"It's such a grey area. I'm just going by what has worked for me."

The conversation slowly dwindled as they discussed the accursed flames further, resulting in each of them offering theories from the somewhat credible to completely absurd as they whittled down the hours before Harry had to leave for his scheduled meeting with the Unspeakables, something he had been anticipating taking place for some time.

He left the group at the appointed time with the assurance that he would give them any poignant and relevant information. He hadn't divulged all the particulars with them, but he had been keeping them in the loop as best he could without revealing anything detrimental.

He trusted each of them absolutely, but the school was not an ideal place to discuss such things, especially, as Harry had learnt over the years, the school had ears and eyes everywhere leaving very few secrets in tact within itself.

After arriving at the Ministry, he made his way to the office belonging to Millicent Bagnold and was greeted by the lady herself alongside the cloaked man he was now familiar with, the former looking more drawn and tired since the last meeting the teen had shared with her. She merely gestured for him to take a seat as she took her own and exhaled, her exhaustion accentuated further by the action.

"I have agreed to your approach," she sighed defeatedly with no pomp of note. "I am reluctant to do so, but there has been some unexpected and unpleasant developments."

Harry tilted his head in curiosity and waited for the Minister to elaborate. It was however her companion that continued on her behalf.

"Two days ago, the village of Polperro was attacked. After collecting evidence, interviewing and obliviating the muggles, we have no doubt that Giants, Dementors and a dragon were used. Twenty-three people were killed, and it was only because a squib that resides there managed to alert us that it was not worse," he revealed, his voice as tired as the Minister's.

Harry nodded his understanding gravely.

"What happened to the giants and dragon?"

The cloaked man shook his head in frustration.

"They fled south and the Aurors lost track of them whilst they were dealing with the Dementors."

"I assume that you are prioritising them?" he asked the Minister.

"That is correct, but our attempts at locating them have yielded no results," she grumbled. "And even if we did find them, both are exceedingly difficult to bring down."

"I think if you checked the village of Little Hangelton you may find them there. That's where the Riddle family Manor is," Harry explained.

The Minister nodded gratefully.

"I would also explain the situation to Dumbledore. If anything, I'm sure he will have some ideas at least."

"I am meeting with him this afternoon to discuss it," she replied.

"Just out of interest, what type of dragon is it?"

"A Peruvian Vipertooth," the Unspeakable interjected. "The smallest dragon, but dangerous nonetheless."

"And very snakelike," Harry muttered. "He must have either conversed with it or used parselmagic to control it."

"Is that possible?" the minister questioned worriedly.

"With that particular breed, maybe," Harry shrugged. "I doubt even Tom is powerful enough to use mind magic on one and I doubt it would be a risk he would take."

"Our main concern now, is to put a stop to whatever it is he is doing," Bagnold broke in. "That is why I am allowing you to go ahead and do whatever you need to, to figure out that mark. If we can manage to outlaw it, then it will be a big step in ending this."

"Then I will get on with it," Harry stated as he stood.

"I'll be coming with you," the Unspeakable informed him as he too rose from his seat. "I will need to keep a comprehensive record of what you do and the effect it has. We will need to cover all bases in a legal sense to ensure none of this comes back and bites us on our collective arses."

Harry shrugged and motioned for the man to lead the way. It mattered not to him who was there, so long as they did not interfere at a crucial point of his work.

They exited the fireplace and made their way to the room Harry had previously visited, with no words exchanged as they waited for Rabastan to be brought in so they could begin the arduous process before them. Harry had no doubts that he would be successful in his endeavour, he simply had no preconceived notions of how difficult and exhausting it may prove to be.

As he previously had been, Rabastan arrived hooded and handcuffed, being placed in a chair that added to his already sufficient detention. The young man shook nervously as he protested, words that fell on deaf ears.

"You can't do this," he almost pleaded, his voice quavering with each syllable spoken. "I'm a member of a Most Ancient and Noble House."

Neither Harry nor the Unspeakable responded and the former set about his task, first removing the sleeve of the plain grey prison garb that adorned the other teen. With his access to the mark no longer inhibited, he placed his wand upon the exposed, tainted forearm and familiarised himself with the magic it contained. It was powerful, consuming, even more so than most darker aspects of magic usually were, but he did not allow this to deter him from his efforts. He himself had darkness within him, a darkness perhaps on par with what he now faced.

As he allowed said darkness to wash over him, he immersed himself within it, revelling in how his own negated the parasitic nature of what he faced and smirked as he began to hiss gently, focusing his efforts primarily on undoing the compulsion and loyalty charms the mark had been imbued with.

As his ministrations ensued, the screaming began.

He had not expected the experience for Rabastan to be a pleasant one, he had however not expected it to be so agonizing. He was determined to continue, and after his questioning look towards the Unspeakable was met with a simple nod, he did so.

Rabastan fell both silent and limp within his confines after a few minutes into the procedure, his body physically spent from his own protestations. After checking the boy was still alive, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the resistance of the mark wane considerably upon this development, and he managed to complete the desired work shortly after, though a prominent sheen of perspirant was visible on his brow, a result of the adversity he himself had faced.

"It's done," he revealed tiredly. "The compulsion and loyalty charms are gone as is the portkey one."

"Good," the man replied evenly.

He removed his wand and flicked it towards the door, causing it to open a moment later and two of his colleagues entered and removed Rabastan from their presence to have him tended to by a healer. The Unspeakable rose at this and led Harry from the room and to the fireplace he usually entered and exited the department.

"You've helped us make significant process. Once he is well enough, we will question him and make a decision on what we will do next. We will of course be in touch if we require your services further," he said dismissively.

Harry shook his head slightly and left via the floo. He hadn't expected praise, but a modicum of thanks would not have gone amiss.

He felt underwhelmingly pleased at what he had achieved this day, hollow in some regards. He had expected that a sense of relief would have at least prevailed, but instead, he felt used and only frustrated. He understood the necessity for caution in the approach the Ministry were adopting, however, in his heart he knew their own achievements were few and far between and progress was not being made at an acceptable pace.

He couldn't help but feel that their efforts were not forthcoming quickly enough and lacked the urgency required to succeed. His own mind permeated with ideas on how the needed progression could be made, but it seemed the Ministry were content to continue their somewhat lackadaisical path and allow the danger the Wizarding World faced to be nurtured more so, something he was not happy with.

He shook his head at his own predicament.

Perhaps it was he that was showing lack of patience, though he doubted this trail of thought significantly. He had no love of politics, but he understood the need of it for the time being to not only protect himself, but those he cared for.

He sighed deeply as he exited the empty Minister's office and began his journey back to Hogwarts.

His only possible option now, to avoid provoking the ire of his tenuous allies, was to wait for word on what would come next after their new line of investigation had been explored.

He would hear from them in due course, this he had no doubt of. He could only hope that the incompetence of the body would not rear its' head soon, it would do nothing but offer setbacks and perhaps failure.

In that moment, Harry made up his mind. If such a thing were to occur, then it would be himself that would deal with it his way, no matter the outcome. He would not allow Voldemort to prevail because he had tried to go about his task using the correct channels. Should the Ministry prove incapable, then he would take the fight to Voldemort the way he yearned for and he would bring the Dark Lord down by any means necessary.

The biggest benefit of combining his own efforts with that of the Unspeakables, was the information he was now privy to. He now knew what the happenings of Voldemort were more clearly and could prepare accordingly. With the information he had received today, he at least had a very solid foundation for what his next lesson with the Marauders and fellow students would be.

Giants and dragons were not easy fare after all.

(BREAK)

It was the very next day after Defence Against the Dark Arts that Harry found himself in a classroom on the third floor with his usual company and as the group settled, he began without preamble.

"How would you bring down a Giant?" he questioned the other teens.

"Giants?" Remus returned with a concerned expression. "He's using them now?"

"From what I have heard, yes," Harry revealed severely. "And a dragon."

Sirius threw his hands up in frustration as the females shared looks of worry.

"Great," the former exclaimed, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Harry chuckled amusedly at him and shook his head.

"It could be much worse," he placated.

"How could it be much worse than dragons and giants?" Sirius retorted.

"He could have a nundu or a basilisk," Peter shrugged.

Sirius looked horrified by the idea, but any reply he may have given was cut off by James.

"Both are resistant against magic," he offered thoughtfully.

Harry nodded.

"They are," he agreed wholeheartedly. "But both have vulnerabilities, and these can be exploited.

He began pacing back and forth as he waited for the rest of the teens to settle once more.

"Giants are not particularly bright, but most spells will bounce off of them," he continued aloud. "What would you do if you faced one?" he questioned Marlene suddenly.

The girl looked between Sirius and Lily, hoping that either would come to her rescue. When it was clear that was unlikely, she swallowed deeply and shrugged non-committedly.

"Run," she murmured uncertainly, causing the rest to laugh.

'In an ideal world, that would be my first choice," Harry revealed. "What if you couldn't run?"

Marlene shook her head.

"I don't know."

Harry smiled at her warmly, thankful that there was still a sense of innocence about most within the room. He turned his gaze to a pensive James.

"Well, if direct spells won't work, I'd use more physical attacks," he answered after pondering the possibilities briefly.

"Yeah, punch a giant, that's a good idea," Sirius sighed in jest.

James frowned at the boy whilst the others shared a chuckle amongst themselves.

"He's right," Harry broke in.

"What, punch them?" Peter questioned confusedly.

This response only caused another outbreak of laughter from the teens.

"Not quite, Wormy," Harry consoled. "I was thinking more along the lines of this."

With a wave of his wand he conjured a very large dummy, not quite the size of a giant, but large enough for an accurate demonstration. With another, he created an adequate steel ball and banished it at the knee of the dummy, causing it to be reduced to little more than powder, the affected limb now lame and unusable.

Sirius whistled appreciatively at the display as he inspected the damage to the figure.

"That's going to hurt," he praised.

The others nodded in agreement at the summary offered.

"Can all of you do that?" Harry asked.

All nodded other than Peter. Transfiguration was not his strong suit by any stretch, but he surprisingly looked unconcerned at his lack of ability.

"I don't think I could," he sighed, "but I think I have something else," he added with a devious smirk.

Without a further word, he drew a potion vial from within his robes and hurled it at the dummy. The resounding explosion had the others covering their heads to avoid any potential debris.

Most shot the boy a look of disapproving despair as Harry inspected the results, his eyes widening in surprise and admiration at the ingenuity shown.

"What the hell was that, Wormy?" Remus questioned, his breathing slightly fast from the shock.

"Just something I've been working on," he responded with another smirk.

The results of his attack were indeed impressive. Both legs of the dummy had been severed at the waist, and very little other than a few sinewy remains were left.

"Can you make more," Harry interjected.

Peter nodded proudly.

"Then do it, they could come in very handy."

"Well, that's one thing dealt with," Lily said, "but what about dragons?"

"Ahh, dragons," a voice interrupted from the door.

The teens turned to find Albus Dumbledore himself taking in the scene in front of him. He frowned slightly as he came upon what was left of the dummy and the heavy scorch marks to the wall.

"You will find," he continued after only a moment' pause, "that a dragons' eyes are where they are vulnerable, though I would certainly advise against engaging one at all," he finished seriously, thought the ever-present twinkle in his eyes remained.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Peter apologised quickly.

"No need to fret, Mr Pettigrew," the headmaster replied with a smile. "I too was young once and did my fair share of dabbling. However, I must insist that this mess is cleaned up."

Peter nodded frantically and set about the menial work.

"And that will be twenty points to Gryffindor for a great showing of fortitude."

Peter flushed slightly at the praise but continued his work.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes, Dragons," Dumbledore mused. "A simple spell would suffice, but the aim of the spell must be true. What would you recommend, Harry?"

"A Conjunctivitis Curse is a good one. It's not very taxing to use and will leave the dragon blind," he replied as his thoughts drifted to how Viktor Krum had handled his dragon during the Tri-wizard tournament. "I'd also secure its maw to prevent being cooked alive."

"Indeed," the old man concurred with a chuckle. "Lots of food for thought there. Now, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I'd very much like to have a word with Harry, if you don't mind of course."

The other students offered no protests to the request and bid their farewells to both before exiting.

"It is rather troubling that Tom has managed to secure the allegiance of such creatures," Dumbledore sighed shortly after the door had closed behind them.

Harry nodded.

"I see you still have access to information," he responded with humour.

"That I do, though it is not always as forthcoming as I wish. I learned of the attack only this morning via an old acquaintance of mine," he explained simply. "How are things progressing with the Ministry?"

If he hadn't spent much time with the man over the course of the past few weeks, Harry would merely believe that the headmaster was fishing for information to bolster his own knowledge and aid him in his own efforts. However, he had quickly learned that Dumbledore had little use for the Ministry when it came gathering information. He had more than enough people loyal to him in which he could garner this.

"Slowly, but necessary progress is now being made," he assured the man.

"I am pleased," the older man replied, relieved that the efforts of the boy were not in vain.

"I imagine things will start to happen soon. Well, they should if the Ministry do their job," he finished with a shake of his head demonstrating his frustration.

Dumbledore snorted amusedly, and the two allowed a content silence to overcome them.

"In the mean-time, the Christmas feast is fast approaching, as are, I believe, the nuptials of two former students," he spoke, his eyes twinkling more so.

"I'm sorry Professor, I don't think you can expect an invite. It's a very small affair," Harry explained apologetically.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I didn't expect I would," he replied. "I don't think I've ever been invited to a Black wedding," he added with a tug on his beard.

"Differing politics?" Harry offered with a grin.

"That must be it," the headmaster answered with an amused grin of his own. "Though, I would feel slightly disappointed if I never made it to one."

Harry bowed his head in acknowledgement as the man stood to leave.

"I shall remember that, sir," he promised sincerely.

"And I imagine Fawkes will be very disappointed should he not witness some unexpected merriment during our upcoming festivities. He has been very insistent on being allowed to attend this year," the headmaster finished as he exited the room, leaving a very bemused Harry in his wake.

(BREAK)

Lucius Malfoy's eyes bore into his guests, the unspoken threat clear within his pools. The blonde revelled in the power he held over others, his name alone commanding respect amongst the upper echelons of society. The same respect that made his associate waver under his gaze.

"This had better be correct," he whispered dangerously.

The man gulped audibly as he stood.

"I have checked it several times, this is the date and location," he assured the Malfoy heir.

Lucius dropped a sizable bag of gold on the table and dismissed the man with naught but a sweeping gesture of his hand.

For weeks he had waited for this information, and for months he had plotted and planned within his mind the way in which he would exact his revenge on those that had left his name both besmirched and disrespected.

And now, everything was beginning to fall in to place.

He had the much-needed allies to carry out the plan and he had the place in which said redemption would take place. The only thing that remained was to ensure that his father did not catch wind of his actions, the man would be most displeased if such a thing were to come to light.

(BREAK)

The days leading up to the end of term saw Harry occupied with a variety of things. He had continued working with his friends on defence and was pleased with the progress each was making. James in particular, thrived with conjuring the steel balls and banishing them, whereas Sirius worked on a few lesser known binding spells that he had found within the Black family magic tomes. Remus, as Harry had expected, demonstrated his own proficiency in the work and the girls had all banded together and become quite a fearsome trio in their own right.

Peter had been the biggest surprise. Harry had deduced the others would do well in their efforts to the point he'd had little concern with their progress. Peter however, had more than made up for his lacklustre skills in conjuration. He had, instead of creating the steel balls, utilised his explosive vials with spectacular results, something that had the others swelling with pride.

It was clear that he had worked tirelessly on his banishing charm, and although it was not the most powerful, his accuracy and potency of his concoction more than substituted sufficiently for the power deficit.

When the others had questioned what he used to create the vials, the boy simply grinned coyly and shook his head, refusing to share his secret. It frustrated the rest of the Marauders mostly, as it was usually themselves that could lord their capabilities and knowledge over the others, but they eventually managed to accept that the smallest member of their group had something that the others could neither replicate or create for themselves.

This made the rat uncharacteristically more confident and this was further demonstrated in his other work. He no longer shied away from attempting new things and even his spell work improved noticeably.

All in all, Harry was content with how the teens were all progressing and, with each passing day, worried less and less about them and their ability to defend themselves should the need arise.

Not only had the final day of term arrived, the impending wedding of Ted and Andromeda loomed ever closer also, and as Harry had surmised, a shopping trip for new dress robes had been an unavoidable event. Thankfully, it had been Bellatrix that had insisted that she would accompany him on said trip, resulting in a much more pleasant experience compared to the trip he had taken with Dorea and Sirius the previous year. Not only did he not have to tolerate the indecisive nature of the other boy, he was not forced for hours on end to try on every different robe available in the shop. It had been clear from the start that Bellatrix knew the colour and cut she wished for him to wear, and he quickly found her desires agreeable to his own taste, not that it would deter her if he had voiced any objection.

After all, had been said and done, the robe had been purchased and the girl had even treated him to an ice cream at Florean's for what she deemed to be 'good behaviour'.

He shook his head in amusement and grinned at the memory. He had enjoyed that day and was pleased that Bellatrix seemed to be acting more and more like herself.

The day of the festive feast passed in a blur of classes and Harry soon found himself entering the Great Hall with the others, the girls shooting looks of suspicion in their direction, with good reason. The boys had spent their evenings finalising their plan of action, and despite the glares of disapproval they had received from their female counterparts, had persevered and completed all preparations for their intended spectacle.

Much of the work for this had been completed by Remus, who had strangely insisted on taking the lead on this particular project, leaving the other Marauders somewhat clueless as to what his idea entailed. Harry had been asked to only conceal a few charms on a number of items, and he had no idea nor indication what the others had been delegated with for their part in the upcoming entertainment.

Remus led them to their usual seats, and they waited for Dumbledore to make his usual address. The room soon filled with students and staff alike, many keen for the food itself and looking forward to spending some time with their families away from the castle. Although things had significantly relaxed since a large portion of the elder Slytherins had been gone, the holidays were still a much sought-after commodity that many needed, particularly those in their fifth and seventh years respectively. The workload for these students was considerably higher than the other years after all.

Once those attending had all found a seat, the headmaster rose from his own, his twinkling eyes sweeping across the masses warmly.

"And so it comes, the part of the year in which most of us will bid each other farewell for, I believe, a much-needed respite from our academic pursuits," he began cordially. "I would like to congratulate all of you for your efforts thus far, and I expect your exemplary example to continue upon your return. Now, albeit for me to keep from filling your bellies and emptying your heads any longer, so I will simply wish you all a safe and Merry Christmas," he finished with a raised goblet as he took his seat once again.

Ann odd moment of silence fell at the words of the man, and a few searched expectantly, both hopeful and eager for some additional merriment to the gathering. When it was clear that nothing was forthcoming, a few sighs of disappointment were uttered throughout the room and the students and staff alike dug in to their food.

Dorea nodded sternly at Harry and the rest of the gathered teens, approval evident in her gaze at the lack of additional festivities courtesy of her son, grandson and their friends.

James merely ducked his head, aware that he would be facing the ire of the woman shortly.

The look received from the headmaster was questioning, with a hint of disappointment. He had clearly been certain that something would interrupt, or at the very least follow his words. He stroked the plumage of his phoenix in consolation, soothingly as the bird swept its own eyes across the room, cocking his head in anticipation.

The girls too were surprised at the lack of activity, but the suspicious glances remained until it was clear that none of the boys were focusing on anything other than the food each had piled in front of them and they too began to relax, their expressions more curious.

It wasn't until the plates had been cleared and dessert served that the first indication of something amiss could be noted.

It began as a faint, rhythmic rumble that sent ripples through the jugs and goblets containing pumpkin juice, a rumbling that drew nearer as though an army were descending upon the hall.

A panicked and anticipatory chatter broke out as more and more people became aware of the happenings causing Dumbledore to stand and draw his wand, his eyes alight with curiosity and excitement as he glanced towards the Gryffindor table, his unasked question answered by the looks of mischief sported on the suspected perpetrators faces.

The cacophony of sound drew ever closer until it was outside the door to the very room. There was a delay for only a second before they burst open and the source of the noise was confirmed, much to the bemusement of the onlookers. In swept a parade of suits of armour, various items of furniture moving of their own volition and various items of clothing that had been bewitched to do the same.

The suits of armour, instead of being equipped with the usual weapons, carried a mixture of instruments from trumpets and saxophones, to drums and violins. Without prompt, a festive piece began emitting from said implements as the impromptu orchestra arranged itself at the front of the hall, leading to a round of applause to sound from the gathered students.

The other props present however, were not idle. Several made their way to the table in which the staff were sat and began to ceremoniously pull them to their feet, forcing them to dance with them.

Professor McGonagall flushed a furious red as she attempted to wrest herself free from a persistent Slytherin robe that had seemingly selected her as its partner of choice.

"You had better put a stop to this, Albus," she growled furiously. "I will not be humiliated by a robe."

Dumbledore chuckled in good nature as he relented and allowed a Victorian night shirt to lead the waltz, he found himself in.

"I disagree, Minerva. I find my companion to be quite the dancer," he returned with a cheeky smile.

The students, initially shocked from the display laughed heartily at the absurdity of what it was they were witnessing, disbelief and amusement alight in their eyes.

Several found the hilarity short-lived.

The props that had not managed to secure a member of staff descended upon them, pulling the teenagers to their feet and subjecting them to the same treatment, much to their dismay.

The Marauders roared in laughter and patted an uncharacteristically smug Remus on the back, his prowess with enchanting surpassing what any could have ever hoped for.

"This is amazing," Sirius shouted to be heard over the din.

In his own merriment, he stood and pulled a thoroughly red Marlene to her feet and began dancing with her, only to be interrupted by a smart tap upon his shoulder.

He turned and frowned as he came face to face with nothing but a levitating pair of metal gauntlets.

"Piss off," he said irritably, waving the gloves on before turning back to the girl.

Again, he was tapped on the shoulder and growled in annoyance.

"I said piss off," he repeated angrily, only to find himself sprawled upon the stone floor as his last syllable was spoken, the gloves having taken offense to his dismissal and punching him in the face for the social infraction.

He held the offended cheek to sooth the pain and looked towards the gloves and Remus in disbelief.

"They bloody punched me," he managed to say through his shock. "Oi," he shouted as his attacker seized Marlene and led her away for a dance of its own. "MOONY," he roared.

Remus simply chuckled as he spooned some ice cream into his mouth, content to watch as the chaos ensued around him.

Sirius shot to his feet and pursued the gloves that had taken his girlfriend, a vast repertoire of expletives being heard in his wake.

Remus could only laugh as he shook his head.

Hagrid had found himself targeted by a rather large hat stand which he was attempting to fend off, with no avail. The large man was pulled around with as much ease as the others, leaving the man bewildered with his current predicament.

The only member of staff that had not been targeted had been Dorea. Remus had no doubt that he would be taking the blame for this display, and he certainly had no desire to provoke the formidable woman. He dared a glance in her direction and was met with narrowed, yet amused and appreciative eyes.

The magic he had employed for this had been exceedingly difficult to cast and had taken him days to complete to his satisfaction and he was more than a little proud of his accomplishment.

He allowed the mania to continue for a little longer, only relenting when he caught sight of the murderous glare he was receiving from Harry, who had involuntarily found a dance partner in the form of a rather aggressive stuffed manticore he had found in the room of requirement.

With a laboured sigh and flick of his wand, he ended the spell causing his creations to collapse limply to the ground, a resounding, relieved sigh following soon after from many as the final sounds of the music faded.

He flicked his wand once more and a series of fireworks exploded overhead within the enchanted ceiling, followed by an animation of Father Christmas flying across in his sleigh, a banner in his wake wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.

The completion of his work was met with a thunderous round of applause by most of the students and staff alike before the seats were filled once more.

"Absolutely inspired," Dumbledore praised aloud with genuine admiration of what he had witnessed. "An exquisite display of magic. Fifty points to whomever it was responsible."

The hourglass belonging to the lions filled with the awarded amount as the Headmaster dismissed them, a very happy and content smile plastered across his face.

As the students exited, Sirius shook his head and rubbed his now purple cheek.

"Why the bloody hell did you let it attack me?" he questioned angrily.

Remus shrugged and smirked.

"You insulted them."

Sirius growled and stormed ahead.

"He'll get over it, Moony," Peter broke in.

"I know," Remus returned confidently. "I think it hurt his pride more than anything."

"That was a hell of a punch," Harry interjected.

"Not very fitting for one of his station," James added.

"Or ego," Peter quipped.

The others laughed as they made their way towards their common room, each quite looking forward to heading home in the morning and spending some time with their loved one for the coming festive period.

(BREAK)

Andromeda checked her reflection a final time in the mirror, half turning to take in her appearance in its' entirety before smiling happily, her eyes watering in turn. The dress she had chosen was a rather simple, white ensemble, complete with a veil and modest tiara to complete her look. Simplicity is what she had desired. The day itself would be a rather small affair in comparison to what she had considered as a younger girl, but, in the circumstances, she wouldn't have it any other way. She was marrying the man she loved, and that was all that mattered to her.

She caught sight of her middle sister and her appraising yet approving gaze, her eyes shining suspiciously also as she looked upon her sibling. Bellatrix had been nothing short of a boon to her efforts in making this a day that she would remember. She had taken the reins when needed, and Andromeda could be no more grateful than she was for what her sister had achieved on the behalf of herself and her husband-to-be.

Ted himself had been agreeable to any and all suggestions that had been put forward to him by the Black females, just happy that he was able to marry her at all, and not at all objectionable to her wishes. He had merely explained his amiable attitude towards this as little more than a formality on his part. He loved Andromeda utterly, with or without a wedding ceremony and so long as she was happy with what they had, then he would be content also.

She smiled as her thoughts dwelled on the man, the reality of her impending marriage causing her actions to falter.

Bellatrix frowned as she witnessed the physical manifestation of this and approached the bride, steadying her composure.

"Nervous?" she questioned unnecessarily.

Andromeda shook her head in the negative, a smile once more playing on her lips.

"It's just all real."

Bellatrix snorted lightly.

"I haven't been slaving away for no reason," she huffed teasingly.

"I know. None of it seemed real until now," the older girl sighed. "A year ago, I was at school, innocent, with nothing to worry about," she added wistfully. "And now I'm pregnant, and about to get married."

"Innocent?" Bellatrix questioned disbelievingly, her eyebrow raised.

Andromeda frowned.

"Yes," she responded vehemently. "Ted was my first."

Bellatrix held her hands up placatingly.

"I was just messing around," she soothed. "You can't be worried about that, are you?"

Andromeda shook her head, the frown still prevalent.

"That's the one thing I'm not worried about," she answered with a sly grin.

Bellatrix grimaced.

"I don't want to hear this," she grumbled, causing the other girl to laugh.

"We're both adults," Andromeda chided lightly. "You're telling me that you and Harry haven't?"

Bellatrix took a seat on her sisters' bed and shook her head.

"Not that, no."

A look of surprise made itself known on Andromeda's face.

"Really?" she asked, though she could already see the sincerity in the denial.

Bellatrix nodded.

"So, what have you done? Have you seen him naked?" she probed with a devilish smirk.

Bellatrix blushed, but her eyes lit up with the thought of fond memories.

"You have," Andromeda almost shouted, her voice triumphant.

The already noticeable redness deepened at the accusation, and Bellatrix couldn't fight the embarrassed smile.

"We've done things," she admitted in a whisper, "but not that."

"But you want to?" Andromeda pried.

Bellatrix nodded slowly.

"I do, I'm just scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

Bellatrix shrugged, her own nervousness showing. She sighed deeply before she spoke once more.

"I don't know, I just don't feel good enough for him."

Andromeda smiled sadly at her sister before taking a seat beside her and putting a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked gently.

Bellatrix blushed again.

"When we are together, like that, I feel very inferior and insecure," she answered uncertainly.

Andromeda was confused by the statement, which showed in the frown that formed.

Bellatrix sighed again, this time, it was laced with frustration.

"Merlin, Andromeda. The boy is like a Greek God, he's just so perfect and I'm just me," she explained with a shrug.

Andromeda smiled at her sister and gave her hand a slight squeeze.

"Bella, it's completely normal to feel that way," she assured her. "You feel vulnerable, like he's judging every single bit of you and it makes you nervous because you're scared he will not like what he sees."

Bellatrix nodded at the assessment causing Andromeda to huff slightly.

"How does Harry react to you, when you're like that?" she asked, an embarrassed blush appearing on her cheeks.

Bellatrix grinned mischievously.

"He can't keep his hands off me, nor me him," she replied with a giggle.

Andromeda shook her head.

"Don't you think that's a good thing?"

Her younger sister shrugged.

"It is," she agreed, "but when it comes to anything else, he stops."

"Do you think that it might be because he respects you?"

"Huh?" Bellatrix returned dumbly.

Andromeda chuckled, revelling in the fact that she knew more about something than the other girl.

"I had the same issue with Ted," she revealed. "He was more than happy to feel up the goods but would freeze when it got too much. He explained that it was because he respected me and didn't want to cross the line."

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing much," Andromeda responded with a shrug. "I just asked him if it was what he wanted, told him that I wanted the same and dragged him back into bed. I didn't let him leave until I got what I wanted," she finished wistfully.

"Andi," Bellatrix exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

"Well, sometimes they just need a push in the right direction," the girl defended.

A brief silence fell between the two whilst Bellatrix digested this side to her sister. She couldn't help but admire the fortitude she had shown, nor the tenacity.

"So, you think I should just tell him?"

"That, or you could just insist," Andromeda responded. "Whatever you think will work. As long as it is what you both want."

Bellatrix nodded her understanding.

"I can't believe you did that," she muttered.

"As I said, a push in the right direction, and trust me, when you start, you won't want it to stop," the older girl explained with a wink.

"Stop what?" the voice of Druella interrupted as she entered the room.

"Nothing, Mother," Andromeda denied with a slightly upturned lip. "I was just giving my little sister some advice."

Druella hummed as she narrowed her eyes at her eldest daughter.

"Where is Cissy?" Bellatrix questioned to change the subject.

Druella sighed.

"She is in her room dolling herself up. She found out a boy she likes will be there today," she explained with a slight grimace. "Any ideas?"

Both of her daughters shook their heads, neither having shared such a conversation with the girl, nor having observed her interest in a boy.

"Hmm, I shall have to keep an eye then," the older woman mused aloud. "Anyway, it is time we headed off," she announced as she pointed to the clock.

"Shit," Andromeda cursed having lost track of the minutes that were passing by.

In a flurry of activity, she collected what she would need for the day and the three females entered the living to find Pollux waiting for them. He greeted the bride with a pained smile, proud of the young woman she had become, though not happy with her choice in husband. He had however agreed that he would follow tradition and give his daughter away, though he did so with more than a little reluctance.

"Do you have everything you need?" he questioned.

Andromeda nodded.

"Then we shall be off," he declared with a sigh.

Druella ignored her husbands' reticence and dour mood as she squeezed her daughters' shoulder encouragingly, leading her from the house and to the area in which a portkey could be used.

"Narcissa, we are leaving," she called loudly.

The sound of rushing footsteps could be heard as the girl descended the stairs and joined them, adjusting her own purple dress as she came. She paused as she took in the appearance of her older sister and smiled.

"You look beautiful," she offered sincerely.

"You too," Andromeda replied, noticing for the first time that her youngest sibling was no longer the little girl she thought of. She was well on her way to becoming a very desirable young woman, something she had never truly considered until she had laid her eyes upon her in this moment.

Pollux too seemed to have a similar realisation dawn as he withdrew a silver chain from his pocket and offered it to his female companions.

"Why did it have to be girls," he sighed as they were pulled away from their home and to the venue that had been designated for the wedding.

(BREAK)

He held her in his arms as he guided them around the dance floor within the forest grove. The clearing had been lit by several floating orbs, complimented by the presence of the fairies that naturally dwelled here, said presence only adding to the serenity of the venue.

Other than a few minor occurrences, the day had largely been a success. The Blacks had surprisingly managed to remain somewhat cordial towards the contingency of Tonks' that were in attendance, small as the group was being of muggle heritage. He had almost felt the need to intervene when Cassiopeia looked as though she would murder those without magic, simply for the fact that they dared to exist and breathe in her presence. A sharp look from Arcturus had curtailed her urges and the woman had instead chosen to ignore them entirely; the best that any could hope to have happened.

Walburga had boycotted the event as was her prerogative, the woman completely insistent that herself nor her husband would be there. Again, this had been expected and even a welcome absence.

Bellatrix sighed contentedly within his embrace as he fought back a chuckle catching sight of Remus and his current predicament. The boy had somehow found himself on the dancefloor with Narcissa, the latter completely oblivious to the scrutiny her companion found himself under. The glares of many he received were nothing short of withering, glares that left him visibly perspiring, his eyes darting to and fro nervously as he attempted to continue his attempt at being an amiable gentleman. He held her to him in a conservative manner, fighting against her attempts to move his hands below her waist, the grey eyes of the Blacks around him not leaving his own.

Harry found his discomfort rather amusing, in-light of the prank the other boy had spearheaded during the Christmas feast, and felt little need to intervene on his behalf. It would certainly teach him a lesson if Arcturus cursed him a few times, and judging by the look the werewolf was receiving, it was a distinct possibility in his near future.

"What's on your mind?" he questioned gently, his tone of voice matching their surroundings.

He felt her smile and shake her head into his chest.

"Nothing really," she answered quietly. "I'm just enjoying being here with you."

Harry felt his own lips quirk upwards. He too appreciated moments such as these, few and far between as they were, it was something he never took for granted.

"It's nice," he observed, giving a nod towards James and Lily who passed by his line of sight in an embrace of their own, the former having refused to attend if she could not be his guest.

Bellatrix sighed into his chest once more before extracting herself from his grip, just enough so that their eyes could meet comfortably.

"I want you, Harry," she whispered, the mischievous grin she wore dimmed slightly by the nervousness in her gaze. Noticing the confusion in his own from the statement, she continued, she did not want her intention to be doubted nor misinterpreted. "In every way, but more than anything, I want you," she finished, her eyes drifting over him, causing him to blush as what she meant made itself known within his own mind.

He dragged a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing hungrily at the implication resulting in a shudder to course throughout her under his smouldering look.

"This isn't really the place to discuss this," he mumbled, his voice pleading, though his gaze continued to burn into her readily.

This did nothing but cause her smirk to deepen as she returned the desire she saw within his emerald orbs via her own violet ones, the carnal urges of each projected perfectly without the need of words.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind of such musings.

"I want you too," he admitted.

She noted the hesitation that coated his words and she huffed in frustration.

"But?" she demanded with a harsh whisper, a sinking feeling washing over her.

Again, Harry dragged a hand through his hair and sighed.

"It's not that simple, is it?"

His eyes had dulled considerably, so Bellatrix took pity on him. She put her need for answers to the side and squeezed him tighter. This was plainly something that he had thought of, likely for quite some time if his reaction was anything to go by.

"Why isn't it?" she asked, drawing in a preparatory breath, even though she could not stand to face such an impending disappointment.

He smiled weakly at her before he answered, his face awash with a myriad of emotions.

"If I die…"

She cut him off before he could continue, knowing immediately what his next words would be. She rested her head against his chin and took a moment to compose herself.

"I believe in you, Harry. More than I have ever believed in anyone or anything before," she spoke truthfully. She took a deep breath and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "If I was to lose you again, then I would rather it happen knowing I had you in every way. There will never be anyone else for me and I know there couldn't ever be anyone else for you."

Her words were certain, though they were laced with just a hint of questioning.

"Never," he agreed, his own vice thicker than normal.

She gave him a watery smile of gratitude.

"What if there was, for you?" he asked worriedly, the thought leaving a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Her smile remained as his own insecurities surfaced momentarily.

"Nobody could ever be you, Harry. There would never be another. I would sooner remain alone and untouched for the rest of my life than have anyone other than you."

His eyes spilled over slightly at the sentiment of her declaration and she used her thumb to wipe away the errant tear that had fallen.

"This all scares me," he admitted quietly.

"What does?" Bellatrix question with a frown.

Harry shook his head.

"All of this," he responded as he gestured between the two of them. "Before I came here, I never understood any of it. I never knew what it was like to have someone I care about as much as I do you. I care so much that it hurts sometimes," he finished confusedly.

She chuckled at his naivety, her heart breaking slightly at the lack of such a good thing in his life.

"That's love Harry," she sighed, "real love."

He chuckled.

"Is it supposed to be so good and scary?"

Bellatrix nodded.

"I love my family, and the thought of losing them breaks my heart, but it's different with you. I lost you once and you saw what happened to me. The fact is, I can't be without you, just the thought of it feels like someone is tearing my heart out," she explained.

He nodded his understanding.

"It's the same for me," he agreed.

"So, will you stop with your stupid nobility and give us what we both want?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

He snorted slightly but nodded.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you if it kept a smile on your face," he responded seriously.

She melted at the sincerity of his words and allowed the tingling feeling that followed to envelope her. Not only could she feel the truth in his words, but his eyes burnt with it equally. The man in front of her would tear the world to the ground for her if she so desired it. But that would never be something she sought, so long as she had him, he was her world and, in that moment, she knew that she was his.

The intimacy of the instance was cut short by the form of an arriving, familiar Patronus.

"We need you now," it said simply before it dissipated.

Bellatrix watched the love he had displayed flitter into nothingness before his usual hard countenance appeared, leaving her wanting, craving for his emerald pools to flicker once more beyond that of what he was now showing.

"I have to go," he said sadly, his eyes sorrowful for the briefest of seconds.

She could only bow her head in understanding, her throat constricted.

He gave her a swift kiss on the head before he departed, leaving in his wake a woman who knew his plight, one that knew that he carried upon his shoulders, and one that carried part of the burden herself. She hated that he felt the need to leave, but she understood. It was all part of who Harry was, just as much as she too had become one of the very few things he needed in life.

But she knew it was worth it, he was worth it.

She had no doubt that he would end that which had plagued him his whole life, and then, she had every hope that she would see more of the man that had just stood before her, his soul bared for only her, more of the man she knew he was becoming.

For that, she would wait a life time if necessary.

She watched as he vanished amongst the thickets so that he could exit the wards and apparate to where he was required to be.

But the truth was; he would never be needed any more than he was by her, at her side, where he belonged.

(BREAK)

Harry arrived at the Ministry to find the building mostly empty, with only a few of the more dedicated employees still milling about. After surrendering his wand to the assistant manning the desk, and receiving the nod of admittance, he made his way to the Minister's office, the activity here contradictory to what he had witnessed upon his arrival in the atrium. A collection of Aurors and senior members of departments alike were seemingly in the process of completing tasks that had been assigned to them, none paying any heed to the teen that was now among them.

Harry shook his head as he felt his stomach sinking, knowing that what had happened could not be good.

After glaring a hole into Dolores Umbridge, and passing her by without leave, he knocked on the door of the woman who had requested his presence and was admitted with little delay. He entered the room to find only the lady herself and the usual Unspeakable, himself being seated as the woman paced frantically back and forth.

"Ahh, Harry, take a seat," she offered as she continued her efforts to wear the carpet down to its barest threads.

He did so and waited for her to explain the need for him to be here. Instead of her acquiesce to his silent request, she gestured for the man to speak in her stead. Harry turned his attention to him and was met with a deep sigh of frustration.

"We fucked up," he said bluntly.

Harry raised an unamused eyebrow but said nothing. He wanted an explanation before determining how dire the situation was, they now found themselves in.

"We got all we need from the Lestrange boy," the man continued. "He admitted what he had done and how he received his mark."

He shook his head before elaborating.

"We gave him a break, some time for the effects of the veritaserum to wear off whilst we decided what we would do next."

He swallowed deeply.

"He hung himself in his cell," the Minister interjected.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the pair, not at all surprised by the amateurism of the establishment. The boy should have been under constant supervision; there was no excuse for him to be left alone the way he clearly had been.

"We decided that we needed to act accordingly. We intended to complete a sweep of the departments to check all members of staff for the mark, but before we got through the first, word had somehow spread and many people fled," the unspeakable huffed. "Of all the staff that remained, none carried the mark."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"So, there was a leak," he deduced.

The man shrugged uncertainly.

"It would appear that way," he agreed sheepishly.

Harry sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.

"The only ones who knew of this were us and our most trusted employees," the Minister defended hotly.

Harry banged his fist on the table, his anger surfacing for the first time.

"Then one of them was not trustworthy," he hissed furiously.

The woman paled considerably as she was faced with the glowing, seething eyes of the young man. She felt a chill run down her spine as she attempted to compose herself, refusing to be cowed by the wizard before her.

"We could not have foreseen this," she spat in retaliation, her chin raised in defiance.

The nostrils of the teen flared.

"It is done," the unspeakable broke in, his own voice stern and reprimanding.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded.

"So, we don't have any other names?" he questioned.

The greycloak shook his head.

"It's not so important," he mused aloud. "We can tally the names of those that have left," he explained.

"That would work," the younger man agreed. "But we need to look at where this leak could have come from."

"I only told one member of my team the full details, and that was as we were about to carry out the searches," the Unspeakable informed him.

"And you're certain they had no opportunity to send a message of sorts?" Harry probed.

The man shook his head resolutely.

"Not without me being able to see it. I trust this person more than any," he added confidently.

"Minister?"

The woman breathed heavily through her nose.

"I told only the Head of the Auror department, the Head of the DMLE and only two others who work closely with me," she answered. "Crouch is completely trustworthy as is my Head Auror, Summers," she assured them. "Both are loyal to the Ministry and were happy to show they are not marked."

"Who were the others?" he pried further.

"My Undersecretary and my personal guard, Kingsley Shacklebolt, both whom are loyal also," she finished, though she was not as certain as she had been.

"Umbridge?" Harry questioned.

"Dolores, yes. She was present this morning whilst we finalised our plans," she replied with a frown.

Harry sighed, having no doubts where the leak had come from.

"Okay," he spoke as he stood. "We need to bring all of them in and get to the bottom of this," he suggested, not giving any hint of who he suspected in the matter. "It must have been one of them, unless either of you have spoken out of turn."

Both denied the insinuation angrily, and Harry held up a hand to placate them.

"I don't believe for a second it was either of you, but that means could only have been one of the others."

"I will send for them now," the Minister declared grimly, not at all happy with the turn of events.

The Unspeakable nodded before exiting via the fireplace as the Minister shouted her instructions to a person outside her now open door.

The wait for those under scrutiny was completed in silence, but short. The Unspeakable was the first to arrive with his colleague in tow, followed only a few minutes later by those of the Minister's entourage.

"Gentleman, and lady. Today, we attempted to make progress with our investigation into the activities of the Dark Lord and his followers, an investigation that has been both hindered and compromised," the Minister spoke, her voice and eyes steely and unwavering. "Now, I have spoken to each of you individually thus far, and we have concluded that the leak that led to the revelation of our plans, could only have come from one of you."

Crouch huffed irritably.

"I do hope, Madame Minister, that you are not under the impression that I am involved in this," he growled dangerously.

"For your own sake, Barty, I hope not," she replied, not allowing herself to be intimidated.

"I have shown I am not marked, and have even volunteered to be questioned under veritaserum," he bit back.

"That's not a bad idea," Harry broke in thoughtfully. "Would all of you be happy to submit yourselves?"

"If the Minister deems it necessary," Shacklebolt answered without hesitation.

Crouch, Summers and the Unspeakable nodded, whereas Dolores Umbridge was now looking nervous, a sheen of perspiration forming on her brow.

"Who are you to decide such a thing?" she spat towards the teen furiously. "We are all loyal to the Minister."

"That remains to be seen," Bagnold interjected darkly.

"Well, I for one refuse," Umbridge declared. "I will not have my deepest, personal information forcibly taken in front of my colleagues. It is both immoral and uncalled for."

"Dolores, I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter. As Minister, it is my prerogative to deem what is and isn't necessary, and in the circumstances, I deem that it is. This is a matter of national security. An investigation of the utmost secrecy and importance has been compromised, and I will not allow such a thing to pass without punishment," Bagnold responded icily.

Umbridge looked towards her colleagues for support, only to be met with accusing eyes. In a moment of sheer madness, her fingers twitched towards her wand, and in only the blink of an eye, she found herself on the ground, head throbbing, ears ringing and bound, unable to even twitch her limbs.

The others in the room turned towards the teen who had acted against her, black and purple wand in hand as his eyes glowed dangerously in the direction of the downed woman.

"Shit, he's fast," Shacklebolt observed, having not even seen the boys' attack.

Crouch nodded his agreement grudgingly.

"Can we get on with this?" he demanded. "We all have other things we need to be focusing on."

The Minister nodded as she drew her own wand and levitated her disgraced secretary into a chair. At her prompt, the lead Unspeakable stepped forward and administered the required three drops of clear liquid and stepped back. It took only a moment for the woman's eyes to glaze over and he gave the go ahead with another slight jerk of his head.

Bagnold cleared her throat before addressing the woman, both anger and disappointment evident in her eyes.

"What is your name?" she demanded.

"Dolores Jane Umbridge," the plump detainee answered, her voice monotonous.

"Are you a follower of the Dark Lord?"

"No," Umbridge answered.

The Minister frowned before proceeding.

"Is it your intention to become one?"

The sweat already prevalent on the woman's brow thickened as she fought the potion as best she could, but to no avail.

"Yes," she ground out.

Bagnold sighed, her lips twitching in distaste.

"Was it you that revealed our intention to search the staff for the Dark Mark."

A single tear fell from the left eye of Umbridge broke free, though all in attendance were certain it was not one of regret but one of self-pity.

"Yes," she expectedly revealed.

The Minister growled in fury.

"How?"

Umbridge swallowed deeply.

"I sent a paper note to Lincoln Rosier to warn him."

"Rosier?" Crouch broke in. "I Should have known."

The Minister sighed.

"What's done is done," she muttered unhappily. "That doesn't change the fact that the only evidence we had is now useless and our only source is dead."

"Then we should get more," the Unspeakable advised.

"That will be very difficult," she returned.

"Indeed," the man concurred. "We do however now have a list," he pointed out.

"A list of suspects that we cannot move against. We cannot prove they have committed any crimes. It is not illegal to be marked despite what we know of it," she explained. "We cannot arrest anyone based on mere speculation."

The Unspeakable nodded.

"And it does not help that all of those missing are prominent members of pureblood families, they will not stand for what they will deem a prejudice inquisition."

"So, how do we proceed?" Crouch questioned keenly.

"We must catch them in the act," Kingsley answered in realisation.

Crouch was not at all appeased by the answer.

"Impossible. By the time we can respond to their actions, they are always long gone."

The others in the know murmured their agreement with the man.

"There is another way," Harry muttered.

When the others looked to him for the answer, he took a deep breath.

"It will be controversial, but necessary," he warned.

"What is your suggestion?" the Minister requested, open to anything that could assist them out of this bind.

"As Minister, you have the power to ban any with the mark from entering the Ministry of Magic, pending further investigations," he explained.

The woman nodded thoughtfully.

"It's not as though our efforts are hidden any longer," she mused. "The problem is, we are now unable to carry out the investigation. Those with the mark would have already gone to ground."

Harry nodded.

"It just means that you will be able to present what remains of the Wizengamot with what you do have and hope you can convince them to pass the necessary decrees."

The woman shook her head.

"We don't have enough," she admitted. "Even the staunchest of light supporters will not be swayed. It will be deemed circumstantial at best as we only have the words of a now deceased boy," she huffed. "We need further evidence, and we cannot get it the way we had intended. It's all well and good investigating it internally, but we cannot just decide amongst ourselves that a witch hunt can go ahead. It goes against what the Ministry stands for."

"So, the only way is to catch them in the act?" Harry asked.

Bagnold nodded.

"And we don't have the numbers for the necessary patrols," Crouch sighed. "We lost twenty-three Aurors today."

"We are fucked, then," Harry deadpanned.

"It seems that way, for now," Bagnold conceded.

Harry frowned as he thought on his own actions and what he would do next. After the display of incompetency, he had witnessed today, his faith in the Ministry had all but diminished entirely, but he still needed their support if only to avoid any potential backlash in the future.

"What if a helpful citizen was able to persuade some employees on that list to return to their place of work?" he questioned curiously.

Bagnold narrowed her eyes at him.

"Careful, Potter," she warned. "Your immunity only covers your actions against the Dark Lord and not those that have chosen to follow him, unless you are openly attacked," she reminded him.

"It could work," the lead Unspeakable shrugged.

The Minister shook her head.

"It would be nothing but dubious," she responded heatedly. "It is unlikely that these people would come quietly, and we have no grounds to raid their homes albeit officially or unofficially."

"The Minister is right," Crouch agreed unhappily.

The woman in question looked towards the clock and stifled a yawn.

"It is getting late, and we are unlikely to achieve anything else this evening. Let's get some rest and we can resume this in the morning," she decided. "But unless we can come up with a solid plan, then we are stuck."

"What about openly banning the mark within the Ministry?" Kingsley questioned.

Bagnold nodded.

"It is a start, and it will show the public that although we have had a setback, we are continuing to work against the man and his followers as best we can."

"What about Umbridge?" Summers asked, nodding towards the still bound woman.

The Minister sighed, seemingly having forgotten her secretary.

"She will be taken to Azkaban, pending a trial to be arranged at a later date," she instructed. "Any other questions you want to ask her, Barty?"

The man pondered the question a moment before nodding and approaching the woman. Seeing that the potion was still in effect, he addressed her.

"Have you, in other way, knowingly aided the Dark Lord or any of his followers in their endeavours?" he demanded.

Harry silently applauded the man for his foresight. The question itself was poignant and necessary.

Dolores shuddered as she nodded.

"Yes," she answered, her voice quivering.

"How?"

"A man approached me on behalf of Lucius Malfoy. He said that Lucius needed information of where a certain wedding would take place for his Lord."

"Which wedding?" Harry interrupted, his eyes alight with both worry and fury.

"Andromeda Black and her mudblood lover," Dolores answered, trembling under the stare that was levelled at her.

Harry growled as an ethereal Thestral entered the room and spoke in the voice of the woman he had left a short time ago.

"Harry, you need to come back, they're here."

Her voice was desperate and rung in his ears as the creature faded. Without hesitation, he flicked the elder wand into his hand and vanished in a burst of black smoke, the heat and force of his departure sending those remaining in the office sprawling to the ground.

"Gather what men you can and get there," the Minister instructed her head Auror sharply as she rose.

The man nodded and sprinted from the room.

"That was Dark Magic," Crouch declared angrily, a vein in his temple visibly pulsing.

"That is the least of our worries, Barty," the woman chided. "Potter is not known for mercy. We need to stop him killing those people, it may be our one chance to salvage this."

The man gritted his teeth and nodded.

"You two," he addressed the Unspeakables. "Keep an eye on her," he commanded as he gestured to the prone form of Dolores Umbridge before he too exited the office followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The Minister took her seat and released a deep breath. Potter had undeniably been an asset to her and her efforts, but the power he wielded and temperament gave her cause for concern. She could only hope the young man's ambitions were pure and he would not become an issue in the future.

"He will have to be watched," she sighed, the lead Unspeakable still present nodding his agreement, her own thoughts easily interpreted by the man.

(BREAK)

Under the pretence of needing use of the facilities, Remus found himself in the bathroom, the cold water he was liberally splashing on his still red cheeks doing very little to assuage the discomfort he was experiencing. It was not that he disliked the girl, far from it, but the newly revealed persistent side to her troubled him. The two had shared the occasional interaction whilst at school if they had happened upon the other, these exchanges always amiable at the very least. Intervening on one's behalf when in peril creates a bond of sorts after all, but the girl had never exhibited herself in such a way during any of these and it confused him.

He was certainly no fool, he just could not understand why such a promising girl would have intentions of this nature towards him. He in no way thought that he was repulsive outwardly, nor inwardly for that matter, other than the bestial companion that resided within him, his lifelong companion that would emerge as the full moon did.

She however, had no such cursed existence. Her family was powerful, affluent, feared and awe-inspiring in equal measure, herself growing to be a very beautiful young woman with the gift to attain all she desired. So, why was it that he feared her affection? A question that had many answers, each one more persuasive than the one that preceded it.

As much as she appeared to be a woman, she was still just a girl. Only two years separated them in age, these were however two vital years in development and maturity, both mentally and physically. A rather negligible age gap in a few years-time, but an age gap that would currently land him in Azkaban, or more than likely, murdered by her fiercely protective family members.

He shook his head as he released a deep breath. These, in truth, were the least of his concerns.

The fact was that he was a werewolf, destined to remain looked upon as a blight on society, a second-class citizen at best, no matter how much he wished it would change. It was his lot in life, his burden to carry and he could never let her sully herself by having an affection for him, the lowly creature he was treated as.

In truth, he did not even know why it was he stood before his reflection having this internal debate, it was not something he would be able to compromise, negotiate or change. It was simply out of his reach in all ways. All he could do was allow her obvious infatuation with him to pass as all school-girl crushes did eventually.

In only half a year, he would be away from the castle for good and she would still be there for another two. He just had to avoid her until then and then he would soon become but a distant memory to the girl.

He turned off the tap, ready to be his ever-polite self for the rest of the evening, lead her around the dancefloor as she wished and ensure she had an enjoyable time within reason, an intention that collapsed around him as the door opened and Arcturus Black intruded upon him, his stormy grey eyes appraising the teen as the door closed behind him.

"Lupin," he greeted him cordially enough. "I hope you are enjoying your evening."

The tone was casual, but the eyes continued to bore into his own leaving his mouth dry and stomach flipping fearfully.

"Yes, Lord Black," he managed to reply quietly, his stare dropping.

Arcturus nodded once before brushing past the young man and beginning the process of washing his hands, those ever-appraising eyes not leaving him in the reflection of the mirror.

He finished his ablutions and began drying himself on a towel, finally taking some pity on the teen that he had been impressed by since their first meeting.

"I understand your predicament," he sighed. "Do not hurt her," he warned severely.

"I don't intend to, Lord Black," Remus assured him. "It's just a slight crush, I think."

Arcturus let out an uncharacteristic chuckle.

"I'm sure it is. But do not underestimate her persistence. She is just as stubborn as her mother and she will pursue what it is she wants to the very end."

Remus shook his head, partly from frustration, partly from worry.

"What should I do?" he questioned pleadingly.

Arcturus gave a weak smile of understanding.

"If you continue to feign ignorance, it will do nothing to deter her. It will more than likely bolster her determination," he explained, his own tone equally frustrated laced with a hint of admiration. "What do you think you should do?" he fired back, his eyes narrowed.

Remus took a moment to consider his options before replying.

"I should talk to her, explain as best I can," he said uncertainly.

Arcturus nodded.

"You will find that she is just as understanding as she is fierce. She has a beautiful soul and won't condemn you for your decision."

"Thank you, Sir, for the advice and not killing me," he finished with an awkward laugh.

"Killing you?" Arcturus questioned with a deep frown. "You are a good man now, Lupin, and I have no doubt that you will only become even better. I am a man of my word and I look forward to seeing you NEWT results. I hear you put on a very impressive show at the Christmas feast."

Remus blushed slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wanted to test myself and see how far I'd come," he shrugged.

"And how far do you believe that is?"

Remus smiled proudly.

"Far enough that I am confident I can succeed."

"Then our future business endeavours will prove to be profitable," the old man stated.

He stepped past the teen once more and placed a hand on the door, ready to exit but held back momentarily.

"Good luck with my Granddaughter, Lupin, I think you will need it," he offered with a smirk before exiting the room and joining Pollux and Druella once more.

"He knows what is expected of him?" Pollux ground out, receiving a warning glare from his wife.

Arcturus nodded.

"He needed no prompting on the matter," Arcturus answered.

Pollux nodded firmly. He knew he could do nothing in the long term where his youngest was concerned, but for now, she was still a young girl and he wanted her focused on her studies and not chasing after the opposite sex. He wanted the best for her, and he was absolutely confident in her potential as he was his other daughters.

"Why are you grinning?" he questioned his father, the man not attempting to conceal his newfound mirth.

"Well, soon enough, it will be Sirius' responsibility to deal with this particular problem, hopefully before it resurfaces," he explained with his eyes alight.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pollux demanded, frowning as his wife smirked also.

"You don't truly believe that Narcissa will be deterred forever? She will continue to pursue it, it's her nature. I'm just hoping it can be postponed until she is out of school and I am no longer the Lord Black," he laughed openly.

Pollux's eyes widened comically as Druella chuckled along with her father-in-law.

Both in agreement of his assessment of the youngest Black female, neither aware why the young man would fight such affections.

(BREAK)

He took a moment to compose himself further before exiting the bathroom and ignoring the surprisingly amused stare of the man in which he had just been conversing with, the glint in his eye unexpected and a little troubling. He had no need to seek out the vivacious blonde, she found him before his gaze could complete a cursory sweep of the room.

"There you are," she exclaimed, claiming his hand in her own in a confident, recklessly brazen manner.

He felt a heat prickle his cheeks as he averted his eyes to the ever-watching figure of Arcturus Black, the stare he found boring into his own ignorant of the plea for help, still shining with that irksome, rare gaiety.

The visage of the girl's father however, held no such merriment, only flared nostrils and narrowed orbs, not humoured slightly by what was before him.

Remus swallowed deeply as he graced the girl with his attention once more, the feeling of suffocation tightening around his throat the more he pondered the implications of her fascination with him.

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice weaker than he intended.

A slight frown marred her delicate features as she glanced over his shoulder towards her grandfather, father and mother gathered around her table, her eyes flashing dangerously for the briefest of seconds before she smiled at the older boy and led him to somewhere secluded from prying ears.

The glare he couldn't miss only increased his nerves and he was no longer certain would be more pleasant to confront; this teenage girl who seemed determined to claim him in some way or the ire of the older members of her family, who would undoubtedly express their displeasure of him through unfathomable means.

No matter his choice, he was quite certain that he would be subject to the rather infamous Black temper.

Narcissa took a seat on a bench, far away enough from the other revellers for privacy, but not too far that they would be entirely out of sight. She certainly did not want either of their honours questioned nor reputation smeared because she had deigned to share a moment of privacy with the boy. She crossed her legs primly and gestured for him to join her. He did so, and she raised a questioning eyebrow, inviting him to speak.

He exhaled the deep breath he had taken in preparation, crumbling slightly at her already stubborn posture. Her chin was raised, back straight, looking every bit the pureblood lady she was becoming.

"Narcissa," he began nervously, no longer sure on how to broach the subject without embarrassing the girl or himself coming across as foolish or uncaring.

"Cissy," she corrected him.

He acquiesced her request with an apologetic nod.

"Cissy," he obliged.

He sighed and shook his head.

"What are you doing?" he questioned more harshly than he had intended, his frustration at the situation surfacing.

He was met with the raising of an immaculate eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly.

"I have no idea what you mean, Remus," she denied playfully.

He returned her words with a pleading look and a small, sad smile.

"The flirting, the dancing, I just don't get it," he said, his voice much softer than it had been previously.

Narcissa gave him a smile of her own, one that belied the confidence she had been exhibiting until now. Her hands fidgeted slightly in her lap as she looked away, seemingly undecided with how to proceed. A deep breath followed shortly, the teasing and surety that had been prevalent, no longer so.

"I like you," she stated matter-of-factly. "Ever since that day in Hogsmeade."

Remus nodded his understanding as his chin dropped to his chest.

"I only did what was right. I protected you because, at the time, you needed it. You don't owe me anything for that."

The girl frowned and narrowed her eyes at him, the same way she had done so towards her family only moments prior.

"I don't feel indebted to you," she said firmly. "None of this has anything to do with that."

Remus frowned in confusion but was halted in his reply by her as she continued.

"You got my attention that day, I won't deny that. It gave me a very good idea of the person you are, but that isn't why I like you," she explained. "I like you because of everything I see in you. You're strong, brilliant at what you do, quietly confident but don't take everything seriously."

She blushed slightly before speaking her final thoughts.

"And very good looking," she added shyly.

Remus felt himself warm at the sincerity of her words, not feeling deserving of such praise. He took her hands and squeezed them gently, appreciatively.

"We can't," he whispered regretfully.

"Why not?" she returned passionately. "Is it because I'm not your type? Do you not like me that way?"

He met her eyes, his heart sinking as he noted the tears beginning to form. For any, he would have felt the guilt creep into him for the rejection he had to give, but for her, he found himself caring deeper than he thought he would have imagined. It was not just guilt that plagued him, but the knowing that he was denying himself also tugged within his gut uncomfortably.

"No," he denied miserably. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" she asked almost desperately. "I know you have enjoyed tonight as much as I have. Just, give me a good enough reason why, and I will understand."

He shook his head, not having expected this to be such an emotionally difficult conversation. He hadn't at all considered that he may like her also. It had always been a commodity that he had denied himself because he knew that he could never have this, with anyone, let alone someone of the calibre of Narcissa Black.

"I'm older than you, an adult," he tried.

"Something that won't matter in two years," she bit back, a little angry at the feeble excuse.

He conceded the point with a nod and rubbed his cheeks tiredly. It was a poor excuse, he knew, and not one that she would accept enough to deter her want of him. He thought furiously of anything else he could use, anything that would make her understand that he was not right for her, and never could be. He met her pleading stare once more, a mistake, for he could not deny her the truth. She deserved it. She had bared herself to him in a way she had done for no other, and for that alone, she deserved the real reason and not the poor excuses he could provided or platitudes that were weaker than he felt in this moment.

He took her hands again, both to bolden himself and support her for the impending revelation.

"We can't Cissy," he began, his confidence waning with each passing second. "Your family would never allow it."

She shrugged indifferently.

"They don't approve of Ted," she pointed out.

"This is different," he replied heatedly. "It's not the same. They would never allow it and you won't approve of me either," he concluded quietly.

"I already do," she hissed irritably. "So, what is the real reason, Remus? If it's not that you don't feel the same as I do, what is it?"

"I'm a monster," he said in just above a whisper. "Something your parents probably told you about when you were little to scare you, someone who can't have what it is I want because of what I am."

Narcissa frowned in confusion and laughed, though there was no humour in it.

"A monster?"

His face dropped, the years of self-torment, people unknowingly aiming their bigotry and hatred towards him and misery of his condition expressed in his features, eyes settling in to the amber of the wolf, though depressed, absent of the malice they usually contained.

"A werewolf," he muttered. "I'm a werewolf."

She stood and took a step back in shock, not having expected a revelation of this nature, her first instinct being to flee from the young man. The sadness in his eyes deepened, if it were a possibility, and she chided herself for giving in to the conditioning she had received throughout her life regarding these creatures. Her own expression became apologetic as she took a tentative step forward and cupped his cheek with a trembling hand, ignoring the flinch of the rattled boy at her approach.

"I'm sorry," she whispered genuinely.

He shook his head and swallowed audibly.

"You don't have to apologise."

"I do," she returned sternly. "I know the person you are, and I reacted just as poorly as a stranger would."

"It's okay," he reiterated.

"No, it isn't, Remus," she scolded, her anger directed more towards her own actions. "I'm just as guilty as everyone for how you and your kind are treated. You are one of the best people I know, and I let my prejudice take over." She gave him a weak smile before speaking further. "It is people like me that are the monsters, the ones who judge you for what you are because of what we have been told. You are not a monster, Remus. You are an amazing person who does not deserve to be treated that way."

He felt himself warm slightly at her words.

"Could you please not tell anyone?" he asked. "Only James, Peter, Sirius and Harry know at school."

"I won't tell a soul," she promised, "but you have to do something for me."

He nodded warily.

"Don't deny yourself the chance to be happy because of a small part of you. You have such low self esteem because of it, and it's silly," she sighed. "I know I reacted badly, and I will always be sorry for that, but if someone cares about you, then the wolf won't matter."

"It matters to you," he pointed out with aa humourless chuckle.

"It doesn't, not really," she mumbled. "It took me by surprise, I can admit that. But it doesn't matter, I still feel the same way, stronger if anything," she finished sadly. "It matters to you though, Remus. That is something only you can deal with, and when you do, then maybe you can be as brave as the wolf in you and pursue what is it you want."

He gave her a weak smile of appreciation.

"So, you understand why we can't?"

Narcissa shook her head, a mischievous grin forming.

"Not at all," she denied. "I understand why you think we can't."

She removed her hand from his cheek and replaced it with her lips, giving him a brief kiss as her eyes sparkled.

"Tell me that you're not interested, and I will walk away from you," she challenged.

His words failed him, her audacity and tenacity shocking him into silence. Even if he had the capability to deny her, he couldn't. He knew that anything he spoke to that end would be dishonest with himself, and her more importantly.

She smiled knowingly at his inability to formulate a response and gripped his hand tightly.

"If you can figure yourself out, and forgive me for how I treated you, then you know where I am. I will wait for you, Remus, you and the wolf, if you will both have me".

He marvelled at her, this wonderful, unencumbered girl who he could see wanted a chance with him. She had asked for nothing more than that and had spoken frankly and honestly with him. He couldn't respect her more even if he desired it, more so, he could not wholeheartedly deny her wish with dismissal.

Instead, he gave her a solemn bow of his head, eliciting a bright smile in return.

He had no doubt that the Lord Black would likely skin him alive, but he found that even though he had betrayed his trust somewhat, he could not outright reject Narcissa. It was not what either wanted, and he could only hope that someday, even if she decided he was no longer what she wanted, that he would have the self-worth to attain something as meaningful as what she was offering, when he was ready to do so.

The duo began walking back towards where the other guests were mingling, already feeling the stares of some upon them causing a sense of dejection to sink into his stomach, but there was something else on the edge of his perception also.

He paused his steps, garnering the attention of the girl, causing her own to cease.

He sniffed deeper as a foreign scent permeated his honed nostrils, frowning in confusion as he failed to identify the somewhat familiar aroma.

"What is it, Remus?" Narcissa questioned worriedly.

His intended response was quelled as he instinctively shoved her aside forcefully with his shoulder, the spell seemingly aimed at her tearing into the same appendage, sending him spiralling to the ground, blood immediately oozing from the wound.

His many hours under the tutelage of Harry prevailed however, and he rolled forward to his feet and drew his wand as the shouting from behind him began.

It was impossible to miss the six figures that approached from the trees, their bone white masks glistening malevolently in the darkness. Harder still was the pink barrier that had formed at his back, separating him from the rest of the wedding attendees. He backed up, under no illusion that he could defeat this number of assailants, retreating until he met the resistance of the barrier that shoved him forward, not granting him sanctuary with the others.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder and found himself met with a multitude of reactions. He briefly caught sight of Arcturus, Charlus and Pollux, wands drawn and attempting to remove the barrier. His gaze swept across the faces of James and Sirius who showed concern for him, both gripping their wands tightly, uncertain of what to do, and he finally met the eyes of Narcissa. She was terrified, pleading for him to run, absent of words.

He swallowed deeply and gave her a sad, but reluctant smile. It was a trap, and he was the only one that could prevent the intended actions of those that intruded upon them. He would not run. He would protect them as best he could, the same way his friends had always protected him.

He turned his attention back to the cloaked figures, the distance between them having closed considerably. His left arm hung limply at his side, but he braced himself nonetheless and fired off a salvo of spells, taking the attackers by surprise.

His chosen target avoided the first, parried the second and shielded the third and returned fire, followed by his companions.

Remus erected a powerful shield that buckled and cracked under the onslaught and nimbly rolled to his side, gritting his teeth against the pain that shot through his already useless arm. He fired a series of Bonebreakers and Bludgeoners, clipping the largest of the attackers with one of the formers and followed up with an Asphyxiation Curse that sailed over his victims' head as he fell to the ground, clutching his knee with a scream.

This only served to infuriate the masked invaders, and Remus was forced to throw himself to the ground to avoid their response. He refused to remain idle however, and he sent a stream of towards them as he righted his stance and sent off to Cutting Curses and a powerful Blasting Curse that echoed resoundingly as it impacted against a tree, sending thick, splinters of wood in all directions.

His efforts were met with a further scream as another fell victim to his work, a large slither of wood now protruding from his back as he lied twitching on the ground.

The attackers continued to press their advantage, and he again raised a shield only to find himself flat on the ground as a bright blue spell tore through his defences and ploughed into his sternum, leaving him on the edge of consciousness, the air ripped from his lungs. He struggled to draw breath as the blackness threatened to overcome him, unable to fight the effects of what he had been struck down with.

A sharp pain spread throughout his scalp as he was pulled to his knees by his hair, the spinning of his head making him nauseous and unable to defend himself, weakened as he was now.

"Tell Potter, to drop his wands and come out and we won't hurt his little friend here," a gruff voice demanded, the voice muffled by the trauma he was experiencing.

The response the man received was a feminine laugh, a laugh that promised pain.

"Harry isn't here," the voice of Bellatrix answered. "But don't worry, Lucy, he's on his way and I'm sure he is looking forward to playing with you."

Remus could almost hear the feral grin the girl was certainly showing, and his attackers began muttering amongst themselves uncertainly, clearly not having planned for this turn of events.

"We should go," one voice advised cautiously.

But it was not to be.

"What was that?" another questioned fearfully.

"Wards," the first replied.

The four remaining attackers became steadily more unsettled and Remus felt a sense of foreboding come over him in the form of a coldness that sunk into the very marrow of his bones, a coldness that the others were acutely aware of.

As his vision began to clear, he noticed the thick, smoky fog that had rolled in from the trees and the lone figure that now approached from within it, his eyes glowing that eerie green that would unsettle any that met such a sight. He felt the grip on his hair tighten painfully and a wand pushed against his neck.

"Stop where you are, Potter," the gruff voice spat. "I will kill him."

Harry stopped as commanded, his eyes taking in the scene before him as he smiled unsettlingly.

He tilted his head to the side questioningly, his grin turning animalistic.

"Go ahead," he shrugged casually. "My wards are up, which means none of you are going anywhere. Kill him, but before you do, you should be aware of something," he advised as he stepped forward again, the atmosphere becoming frighteningly tense.

"What are you talking about, Potter?" the assailant responded uncertainly.

"You will have to kill him very quickly to succeed, but that will leave me with all the time in the world to return the favour, and I will not be merciful. I will make you all suffer every pain you can imagine. I will make you watch as I as I take every single person you love and subject them to horrors you could never fathom, helpless to prevent what I will do. And only then will I put them out of their misery, but not any of you. No, I will keep you alive. Every single day that you exist will be more miserable than the last, more painful, more horrific. I will make you beg for death, something that I will not grant. I will destroy your mind and body, but I will not allow you the luxury of death."

The masked men shuffled nervously, the fear they now felt palpable to where Remus could smell it coming off them in waves. One however, remained steadfast.

"Fuck you, Potter, our master is coming for you," he spat. "Drop your wand or we kill all of them. Do it now!"

Harry hesitated for only a moment before he complied, throwing his purple and black wand to the ground in front of them, causing the attackers to breath a sigh of relief.

"Have it your way," they heard him whisper before he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Where is he," one them questioned furiously, a hint of worry lacing his words.

"I'm right here," the voice of Harry sounded close by. "But, I'm also here," it sounded again, this time quite a distance to the left.

"Stop playing games, Potter," the gruff voice shouted.

Harry sighed from wherever he was.

"If you insist."

Several Thestrals took shape from the fog and charged towards the masked men, the spells they fired in return passing straight through, having no effect on the creatures. They scattered in panic as the creatures drew closer and Remus found himself on the ground once more, abandoned in favour of their own safety. He watched, stunned as the horse-like beasts continued their chase, quickly sending three of them to the ground to join the other two that had fallen to his wand.

The sixth had a little more success, managing to evade his pursuer, but he made the mistake of running towards the grounded werewolf, who sprung to his feet and brought the remaining man down with a vicious uppercut that rendered him unconscious.

Remus too found himself back on the ground as the adrenaline wore off, and the dizziness of blood loss overcame him, he chest still heaving with the effort to breathe.

He noticed harry walking towards him, binding the bodies of the Death Eaters as he did so, a look of concern aimed in his direction.

"Are you okay, Remus?" he asked gently.

Remus could only nod. He was far from it, but he knew he would survive.

He watched as Harry drew an unfamiliar white wand from his left sleeve, baffled by the appearance knowing that it was not the wands that belonged to his friend. He was in no fit state to enquire to its origins however and released a sigh of relief as he felt his skin knit back together tightly as his friend went to work on him.

"I wouldn't have let them kill you," Harry whispered guiltily.

Remus managed a weak chuckle.

"I know," he assured the other boy as he accepted what turned out to be a blood replenishing potion and a pain reliever. "Thank you," he said breathily as they took effect. "You need to get them out of there, I will be fine," he added as he pointed to the pink barricade that remained, the wedding guests visible through the sheen.

As Harry left, he took the chance to breathe deeply, a moment to himself to recover and compose himself. His arm throbbed dully, the potion having not completely eradicated the pain and found himself wincing only a moment later as he felt the weight of someone squeezing him tightly.

"You stupid, stupid man," Narcissa sobbed into his damaged shoulder.

"I'm okay," he attempted to placate her, but she shook her head angrily.

"You might not have been," she gritted out as she pulled herself away from him. "Such a stupid Gryffindor thing to do," she scolded.

"Err, I am a Gryffindor," he reminded her.

She attempted to glare at him, but smiled despite herself, her eyes softening.

"Come on, let's get you inside and get you checked out," she offered as she helped him to his feet.

"I will take him," Arcturus insisted as he reached them. "Go and speak to the Aurors, they want a statement from everyone," he instructed his granddaughter as he gestured towards the contingent that had arrived without either being aware.

She looked as though she would protest, but a single look from the man stymied this and she left to do as she was bid, giving Remus a long look as she departed.

Arcturus said nothing more but turned and began walking towards the tables with the teenager in tow.

"That is twice now that you have put yourself in danger to keep her from it," the older man stated. "You are going to have a reputation similar to Potters' if you aren't careful," he added amusedly.

Remus shook his head in denial.

"I did what was right. I wouldn't let anyone hurt her," he returned with little more than a whisper.

Arcturus smirked, but said nothing more as he led the teen towards a waiting Dorea.

"Check him over, Dor, thoroughly. There's definitely something wrong with this one," he intoned jokingly.

Dorea shook her head and pushed him into a chair.

"Harry already fixed the cut and gave me some potions," Remus explained.

The woman nodded.

"I will just check for any curse residue and make sure the cut won't come undone," she informed him as she waved her wand around the now sealed wound a few times, nodding further in approval.

"You'll live," she declared.

She smiled at him gratefully as she gave his knee an affectionate pat.

"And thank you, for what you did."

Remus bowed his head and blushed slightly at the praise, something he didn't think he would ever get used to. The interaction between the two was interrupted by Arcturus who had remained with him as he sighed deeply and shook his head at the werewolf.

"It seems as though I find myself in your debt once again, Mr Lupin," he deadpanned.

Remus shook his head.

"You have already done so much for me, Lord Black."

"As have you, for myself and my family," the man countered.

"There isn't anything I want," Remus sighed.

Arcturus smiled slightly and nodded.

"Then I owe you a favour, a conversation for another time," he replied, echoing the first talk of this nature he shared with the boy.

He turned to leave, and Remus stood, halting his step as his attention returned to the nervous looking teen who was staring over his shoulder. He glanced in the same direction and was met with the sight of his granddaughter looking towards them in concern as an Auror seemingly talked at her.

"There is one thing," Remus whispered.

Arcturus raised an eyebrow and waited for him to speak further.

The werewolf swallowed deeply before proceeding.

"I have managed to dissuade her, I think," he began uncertainly. "Neither of us are ready for a relationship or to even consider it." He steeled himself as he met the penetrating gaze of the older man. "I told her what I was and why we can't. I explained that, for now, I am too old for her," he elaborated. "She said she would wait for me, and I hope that she does forget about me. It would be best for her. I won't pursue her, and I will keep my distance," he assured the Black patriarch. "There's only one thing that I would ask you."

Arcturus frowned slightly and nodded for him to continue.

"If she doesn't get over it, and if she does approach me however long from now, just, don't make me break her heart," he almost begged.

The older man looked between his granddaughter and the boy in front of him, meeting his eyes and pleading within them as he sighed.

"I have always been keen for my children and theirs to make their own way in life when it comes to matters of the heart. You have been honest with her, and me. You have been there for her when she has needed it most," he conceded. "If that day does come, then I will not stand in your way, nor hers. It will always be her choice, and if she chooses you, then she could certainly do worse."

Remus nodded gratefully.

"I will try to discourage it, sir," he vowed.

"And I strongly suspect you will fail miserably. If the way she is looking at you is anything to go by, then you already have her heart."

He looked towards the girl who was still watching him with concern. He smiled at her, indicating that he was okay before addressing her Grandfather.

"If that's true, then I will make sure I am not a disappointment to her. But only when we are both ready."

Arcturus nodded gratefully before walking away towards the Aurors.

"You've got some nerve, Remus," Dorea praised. "The fact that you asked for something for her got to him. He's always had a weakness for Cissy."

Remus chuckled in relief.

"I thought he was going to curse me."

"You're not the only one," Dorea replied as she followed in the footsteps of her brother, leaving behind a fortunate werewolf in her wake.

As she left, he was joined by James and Sirius, both of which hugged him tightly.

"Mad bastard," Sirius mumbled in his ear.

"What's going on with them?" he questioned as he nodded towards the Aurors.

Sirius shrugged.

"They're taking them in. One of them said something to Harry about helping them with something."

"I can't think of a better Christmas present for him," Sirius snorted.

"No, I can't either," Remus agreed as he was treated to a shy smile from Narcissa once more, something that James was not as oblivious to as Sirius appeared to be.

(BREAK)

He now knew that he had to act faster than he had anticipated, thanks to the idiot Malfoy boy and his companions. His wroth had been a sight to behold when he had been informed of their capture and detainment, a mission he had neither been privy to nor approved of. Abraxus had taken the brunt of his fury, and had yet to recover from his personal attentions, the one thing that brought a slight smile to his pale lips.

He had expressly forbidden any such efforts, so that he had time to consolidate his forces unhindered by the interference of those in charge, something that would now be almost impossible because of their downright foolishness. Things had changed, and not to his benefit. The bureaucrats had seemingly been more active than he had known, using subterfuge to their advantage, building up everything they could use against him to gain an advantage, to destroy everything he had tirelessly been working towards.

It was hindering him now, that he could not deny, but he was accepting of this, much more than he would have believed himself capable of being.

He knew who was largely to blame, there was only one person that could compromise his mark in the way that had clearly been done and allowed the new laws to be passed. His own men, although many holding seats in the Wizengamot, had been unable to prevent the development, they themselves now excluded from the body.

"Well played, Potter," he praised his foe genuinely. "But it means nothing," he hissed furiously.

He would still prevail, no matter what obstacle was put before him, and now, there was only one that needed to be dealt with, once a potential ally, now more than ever, the thorn in his side that he had tried to prevent.

Harry Potter had to be eliminated from the equation.

Not only had he been a direct threat to himself, something that he had since mitigated, but he had proven himself as a threat to his entire regime, and that could not be allowed to continue. He would have to end him soon, it was the surest way to success.

If Potter was dead, then there was none that could physically prevent him from taking what he wanted.

He had no doubt that some would try, but they stood as mere men whereas himself and Potter were titans, giants amongst men. There was no other that could stand against him, not even his former headmaster. The man was a pacifist, weak and foolish. Potter was different, like himself in many ways; Just as ruthless, as cunning and dangerous.

Potter however, regardless of his talents, was still just a boy, but a threat indeed, a threat that would be neutralised imminently.

He slammed the days newspaper on the desk, gracing the heading with a final look of loathing.

Outlawed: The Dark Lord, The Dark Mark, And His Followers

An up-close image of his mark adorned the page along with a statement that the Minister had made to the press, explaining the decrees that had passed motion. In short, neither himself nor his followers could operate as openly as they had been, it was now impossible for him to operate in the political field and the Aurors would now be actively looking to bring his followers in as wanted men.

It was a disaster for him, having achieved so much before true notice had been taken. In truth, he had achieved much more than he needed to, preparing himself for this potential eventuality, but it still irked him that there were those that would dare openly defy him.

However, all would be well once more when Potter was gone. He repeated it to himself within his mind continually, a mantra that consumed him and left him uncaring of all else around him.

The only thing that mattered now was Potter and ending his miserable existence, only then could he continue his work successfully. Only then, could he seize the power he had always craved.

A/N

Hello Guys and Gals,

You again have my apologies for the delay in getting this out. An opportunity for some much-needed work came my way and I could not refuse it. That however, has now passed and I find myself in the same bind I was in prior to Christmas and I am having a bit of a crisis in deciding what it is I should do.

I love writing, more than anything else and would love to do this full time. I have been looking into freelancing, but there is so much contradictory information online. If anybody has any sound advice or experience, then anything you could provide me would be much appreciated.

I did have a bit of a crisis with all of this and nearly quit altogether, but I'm not that kind of person. I'm a firm believer in chasing your dreams, and I will continue to do so. It was suggested to me by a couple of people that I start a funding page of sorts, but again, this is something I know little of. Any suggestions or advice on this would be much appreciated. If I think it is a viable option, then I may well pursue one, especially if it will allow me to follow my passion and be able to write more.

In conjunction with all of this, I want to be much more interactive with all of you guys. I have welcomed PM's and such, but I don't really get them unless I log in on the web, and let's be honest, the messaging service on here is quite poor. In light of this, I now have a twitter account, so please do follow me where I will post updates for this, what the hell else I am up to and also some recommended reads and such. I would also like to get the point where I can do some giveaways for all of you. My twitter is below, (It is the one with the Sirius Black tattoo, part of my own HP sleeve I am working on)

mccusker_lee

And finally, I have purposely avoided scenes of intimacy thus far as I myself don't feel they add much substance to the story; however, I would like to hear your thoughts on this and whether you would like to see a Harry/Bella scene? I would not be inclined to make it distasteful and smutty, that's just not my thing, but if this is something that would prove to be popular, I'm willing to write it so long as it is tasteful.

As usual, I thank all of you for all the support, I can't put into words how much I appreciate it. Please do feel free to message me and please do review, favourite and follow.

Love to all,

TBR