LDoK

Harry Potter: Alchemy

Chapter 10: Investigations

Disclaimer: This is solely a not-for-profit fan activity and does not intend to infringe on copyrights held by Time Warner, DC Comics, Bloomsbury et al, and JK Rowling. Any characters that are original to this work remain the property of the author.

A/N: The Last Daughter Series primarily uses the background from the Harry Potter books, but some elements and scenes have been borrowed from other sources including the movies, Pottermore and my own headcanon, that will be covered where they fit into the narrative. The timeline of the DC Comics elements borrows heavily from Young Justice (2011), may adapt elements and characters from the comics and several additional other media instalments – including but not limited to Smallville (2001) and Superman and Lois (2021) – and relocates events of Young Justice to the Eighties and early Nineties rather than the New Tens as screened and includes several 'legacy' and original characters as a result.

A/N: Thanks to mystic_magic88 and other members of the Caer Azkaban group for their help on this chapter. Further information on the non-HP characters is included in the Last Daughter Guide to Major Characters file on the group (link in my profile).

Hogwarts Great Hall,
Hogwarts.
Scottish Highlands.
November 8th, 08:25 GMT.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet and scanned the room. After a moment, he spoke. "If I could have your attention, please."

Announcements during breakfast were rare enough that everyone, even the Slytherins, quietened down and waited in anticipation. "I am pleased to announce that the issue with the Third Floor Charms corridor has been resolved."

That got the crowd going again, and the headmaster had to let off a bang from his wand to get silence again. "I am also sorry to announce that Professor Quirrell is not feeling well and has returned to his sabbatical. Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons are therefore suspended for the rest of term, while we secure a replacement. A revised book list, should one be required, will be sent out before New Year. That is all."

"'Not feeling well', that's a bit of an understatement," observed Harry, sarcastically. "And that confirms that the You-know-what was guarding the package from Gringotts. I guess that the headmaster has returned it to 'Nicolas', whoever that is."

Ron nodded, "I wonder what it was?"

"Me too," Harry agreed. "But it's dollars to doughnuts that they'll never tell us."

"What to doughnuts?" said Ron, confused.

"Sorry, it's a Muggle expression from back home," Harry replied. "Dollars are Muggle money, a dollar's worth a couple of Sickles… It means that I'm pretty confident that I'm right, so I'd only offer food for money against it."

Ron nodded.

Harry glanced at Hermione, "What do you think?"

His newest friend paused, apparently considering her answer. "I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore will tell us anything he feels we need to know."

"You could be right," Harry admitted. "But I'm curious, and so's Karen."

"Is she going to look into it?" asked Ron.

Harry nodded. "She's got access to a lot more sources than I do here."

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something else. But the bell for the start of classes broke her train of thought and she said nothing.

*-*-*
Kent Farm,
Smallville.
KS 67524.
November 15th, 17:54 CST.

"How was school?" asked Pa as Karen entered the kitchen.

"About the same as usual," Karen replied. "A little better now that I'm not as worried about Hank."

"Dinner will be about five minutes."

Karen nodded, "I need to make a call, Hank asked me to look into something…"

"I'll give you a shout," promised Pa.

Karen rushed upstairs and logged onto her computer. After a minute or two, Oracle's face appeared on the screen, "What can I help you with, Sunstone?"

"I'm trying to get hold of Zatanna," Karen replied. "I need some information on a magical person. I've already asked Thirteen and she doesn't recognise the name. I was hoping that Zee would know."

"She's busy," Oracle replied. "Constantine had a lead on Nick Necro and she's backing him up. Have you tried Jason Blood?"

"He's next, but he's not the easiest or quickest person to contact. I'll have to leave a message with Glenda Marks and hope he gets back to me."

"Maybe not," said Oracle. "Black Canary's been looking for him for help with another part of the case. She think's he's working in Hawaii. She's flying out to investigate today.

"Can you pass a message to her?"

"Already done," said Oracle. "I can run a search through my databases in the meantime though if you've got a name?"

"I haven't got a full name. That's part of the problem."

"Well, give me what you have got, and I'll give it a try."

Why not, it can't hurt, thought Karen. "Nicolas, surname unknown, nationality unknown. Possesses a powerful and possibly famous magical artefact."

"That's not much to go on," agreed Oracle. "But I'll give it a try."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Karen, dinner's ready!" called Pa from downstairs.

"I've got to go," said Karen. "I'll check in later?"

"Sure. If I'm going to find anything it shouldn't take more than an hour."

"I'll be back by then," Karen promised and closed the link.

*-*-*
19:40 CST

"Any luck?"

"Just one match," replied Oracle. "Nicolas Flamel, born in Pontoise, France, in 1326. He married his wife, Perenelle – maiden name unknown – in 1368. They are noted alchemists, and is believed to have created the Life Stone, a Philosopher's Stone which is rumoured to have the ability to produce the Elixir of Life and turn base metals into gold."

"That sounds like a good candidate for 'the item'," agreed Karen. "Do you have any contact details for the Flamels?"

"Unconfirmed," Oracle said. "However, I did find some old records putting them at Le Grand Pignon, 51 Rue de Montmorency, 3rd Arrondissement, Paris. I've sent everything I have to your Darkwear lenses and your e-mail."

"Thanks, I'll check it out."

*-*-*
Warehouse District,
Honolulu,
Oahu.
HI 98614
November 15th, 22:54 HST.

Etrigan smiled in satisfaction as the lesser hellspawn – tengu, a crow-like hominid native to Japan – died in the flames that he had released. Once the gold-skinned rhyming demon was satisfied that all were gone, he declared. "Since the battle's fought and won, Jason Blood with me is done."

Seconds later, the yellow-skinned demon was replaced by a tall, lean man of indeterminate age with a streak of white down the middle of his bright red hair. He regarded the results of Etrigan's work, shaking his head, then turned towards the door and released the locking spell that the demon had placed on it.

A crowd of police officers, both plainclothes and uniform were ranged in front of the door as he came out. Several weapons raised and pointed towards him, ready to fire, but were lowered at a single from the stocky, middle-aged native at the centre of the group. "All done, Mr Blood?"

"All done, Detective Makona," Jason confirmed. "The Yakuza will no longer be able to send that particular force against you."

"Mahalo, Mr Blood."

"I'm not sure I did anything to be thanked for, Detective. I only did what was necessary."

"Nevertheless, you have our thanks. Will you leave the island tonight?"

"I don't think so. It's too late to check out of my hotel tonight… I may leave tomorrow."

"Then we will know where to find you if we need you," said the detective. "Good night."

"Good night, Detective," said Jason and strode towards the nearest edge of the police cordon, intending to leave the area as soon as possible.

*-*-*
Maika Hotel,
Kapolei,
Oahu.
HI 96707.
23:30 HST.

"Mr Blood!"

Jason turned towards the receptionist. "Yes?"

"A lady came in a little while ago looking for you, Mr Blood."

"A kama'aina?"

The receptionist shook his head, "A haole, Mr Blood. Tall, blond woman."

"Did she give a name?"

"No, Mr Blood. But she did say that she'd wait in the bar to see if you came back."

"Thank you."

"All part of the service, Mr Blood."

This late, there were only a few people in the bar, so it was easy to pick out the receptionist's 'blonde woman'… Everyone else was either a guest or sitting with one, and even if she wasn't he recognised her by sight anyway. He stopped at the bar for a drink and then joined her. "Black Canary, what brings you here?"

"An opinion on some information," replied Black Canary, sipping her drink, a Blue Hawaii if he was any judge.

"That is easily provided," said Jason, taking a sip of his okolehao.

"And perhaps some assistance."

"That is not always so easy."

"I believe that you can if you're willing. What do you know about Harry Potter?"

"Not a great deal. He first came to public attention in twelve years ago when he survived an attempt by the dark wizard Lord Voldemort to kill him… accounts differ on how this was accomplished… then disappeared from the public eye until a few months ago when he was accompanied to London's wizarding shopping district by Rubeus Hagrid of Hogwarts School, the headmistress of Conservatory of Sorcery and either Lady Shazam or Supergirl. As far as I'm aware he is currently attending Hogwarts School."

"He is," confirmed Black Canary. "By the way, Kara goes by Sunstone now."

"A much better choice."

"I thought so too," agreed Black Canary. "Queen Mera has a personal interest in the boy. She and Professor Dumbledore have had a number of meetings recently and he raised one or two points that she wanted clarification on if you could?"

"Most likely… And I would be happy to. Professor Dumbledore is not always correct, but his arguments are typically fascinating."

Black Canary burrowed in a bag for a moment and extracted a slim, cardboard folder which she offered to Jason.

He took it, and began to leaf through it, stopping once or twice to reread something.

"Any thoughts?" asked Black Canary when he finally set it down.

"Several. A fascinating read as usual… I think he is correct, or at least essentially so, as far as his plan in eighty-one. However, some research and perhaps an examination of the locations in question will be required before I can come to any conclusions about the current situation."

"But it's worth investigating?"

"Certainly. If only because you need to be extremely sure of your facts if you're going to get between those two."

"Queen Mera and Professor Dumbledore?"

"Indeed."

"When do you want to investigate on site?"

"The weekend? That will give me time to check the theory in my library."

"Sounds good. Shall we meet at The Time in a Bottle at lunch time on Saturday?"

"I'll be there," agreed Jason, then drained the last of his drink. "I'm going to get sleep. Good night."

"Good night."

*-*-*
Charms Classroom,
Hogwarts,
Scottish Highlands.
December 6th, 13:20 GMT.

"Now that you've mastered some simple spells, we're going to start on something a little more fun," said Professor Flitwick once he had taken in the homework and settled back onto his stack of books. Drawing his wand, he pointed it at a large pineapple that lay on an open spot on his desk. "Chorus Ananas!"

A second later, the pineapple stood up on its end and began hopping and dancing around the open space on the desk to claps, giggles and laughs from the students. Flitwick guided it around for a few minutes and then cancelled the spell. "Does anyone have any questions?"

Surprisingly, even Hermione didn't, so Flitwick set them to work.

Thanks to Flitwick's 'rotating pairs' policy, Harry was paired with Lavender that day, and was surprised to find that – despite her generally gossipy nature – she was actually a capable partner, and they were in the half of the students that got the hang of the spell by the time the bell rang.

Hogwarts Great Hall,
Hogwarts,
18:35 GMT.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were finishing up their dinner when Professor McGonagall appeared behind them, carrying a clipboard with a roll of parchment attached to it. "Good evening."

"Good evening, Professor," they replied.

"Are any of you staying at the castle over Christmas?"

None of them were. Ron had grumbled about having to 'put up with his brother Percy for two weeks' – which Harry thought was a little unfair, the seventeen-year-old was a little pompous and officious at times but was a regular and useful contributor to the Babel Club – but had eventually yielded to his parents' entreaties in absence of any solid excuse.

Professor McGonagall frowned a little. "Mr Potter… As you are leaving, Professor Dumbledore needs to speak to you about your options."

My options? Harry thought. Well, I guess this is that conversation… "Did he say when? I've got my language club in about twenty minutes."

"As soon as possible, Mr Potter."

"Would late morning tomorrow – let's say eleven – be acceptable?" Harry asked. "I'll have time after History of Magic."

"I believe that would be acceptable," conceded Professor McGonagall, a little reluctantly. "The password is 'Ice Mice'."

"What was that about?" asked Ron, as she moved away.

Harry waited until the professor was a bit further down the table before replying. "I suspect that the headmaster doesn't want me to go back to Smallville."

Ron's face took on a confused expression. "But that's where you live. Why wouldn't you go back?"

"He originally wanted me to be placed with my aunt, Petunia Dursley, down south because of some 'blood protections' on her house."

"Professor Dumbledore is very knowledgeable," Hermione reminded him. "Do you think that it's a good idea to ignore his wishes?"

"Ignore him, no," Harry agreed. "But you can only come to the right decisions if you have all the information."

Hermione nodded.

"And based on some of the things that he said to Aunt Mera back in November, I think some of his information is out of date."

"Are you sure?"

"Not yet," Harry replied. "But I expect I'll find out tomorrow."

"Are you sure your information will make a difference?" asked Hermione.

"I think so," Harry said. "I'm not an expert on 'blood protections', but I'm not sure that headmaster is either, and Karen has a contact or two who are and they say there are a couple of problems…"

"Such as?"

"First, for best results, she'd have to accept me in, but she refused at the time… even if they could be re-established, they'll never be as strong as they could've been."

"That makes sense," piped up Ron. "I think Bill said something like that when he was studying for his cursebreaker credentials."

Harry nodded, "She also moved out of the house the house she and her husband owned in Surrey a few years ago after they divorced."

"Where does she live now?" asked Ron.

Harry sighed. "That's the biggest problem. According to my information, she now lives in an apartment in London."

"Why's that a problem?" asked Hermione. "You don't like flats?"

"Not particularly," Harry admitted. "But that's not the issue, the apartment is on the second floor. She's renting from the owners of the takeaway below her. According to my source, that means the protections can't be anchored there."

"I think it's possible," said Ron. "Bill talks about putting up protections over their camps all the time…"

"Those are temporary protections," Harry told him. "For the kind of solid, unbreakable protections that you'd need against even a mid-tier sorcerer, my source says you need ownership of the land."

Ron nodded, apparently satisfied.

"What makes you think that 'your source' knows better than the headmaster?" Hermione demanded.

"Professor Dumbledore is intelligent, well-read, and gets around," said Harry. "But he's not a specialist in ancient magic. My source is."

"Really, who?"

"Jason Blood."

"The Jason Blood?" exclaimed Ron. "Merlin's scribe?!"

"That's one story," Harry agreed. "I've heard him described as a high priest, a peasant, a scribe, one of Arthur's knights, the host of a demon… I'm not sure anyone knows what the truth is, not even him… But most accounts agree that he's a skilled sorcerer who's been wandering the world causing or preventing disaster since before the founding of Hogwarts."

"Oh," said Hermione, clearly not sure what to say to that.

*-*-*
Babel Club Meeting Room,
20:47 BST.

Cho Chang closed the story books in front of her and glanced at her fellow presenter, Sue Li. "Is there anything you'd like to add?"

The thirteen-year-old shook her head. "Not today, I've got a couple of other translations I'd like to share if anyone's interested?" she asked and turned towards the rest of the club.

"Well, I can't speak for everyone," said Harry, after waiting a moment to see if anyone else had anything. "But I'm always interested in hearing stories from other cultures. In my experience, it might not be the best way to learn, but it's definitely the most fun."

There were several murmurs of agreement from the club at that.

Percy Weasley spoke up then. "If there's nothing else, then perhaps we should adjourn for the evening?" he suggested. "I'm sure most of you have homework to do."

He wasn't wrong, and the members began to gather their things and trickle out of the room in singles and pairs.

"Percy, can I talk to you?" Harry asked as he was about to leave with a pretty Ravenclaw girl with long, curly hair. "While we walk back to Gryffindor Tower?"

"Of course," Percy agreed promptly. "Penny, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," replied the blond and then kissed him on the cheek. Blushing slightly, she hurried out of the room.

"Girlfriend?" Harry asked, a little impishly, as they left the room.

"I hardly think that my romantic status is what you want to ask me about," noted Percy, imperiously.

"Actually, I wanted to tell you something."

"Really?"

"Yes, I do," Harry confirmed. "When we first met at the Sorting Feast, you sounded like you were curious about the mystery of the third-floor corridor?"

"I am sure that the headmaster…" Percy began stiffly, but then relaxed. "I admit I was curious, yes. Especially when the headmaster announced that it was open again. I wondered if Professor Quirrell's injuries had something to do with it?"

"They did," Harry confirmed. "Professor Quirrell was possessed by an unconfirmed party who attempted to kill me at the Gryffindor-Slytherin match, however Karen was able to stop them. According to information I've been able to glean from various sources that was not their primary objective, but rather the acquisition of Nicolas Flamel's La Pierre de Vie – sometimes known as the Philosopher's Stone – which the headmaster hid here after someone… most likely Quirrell and his parasite… tried and failed to snatch it at Gringotts."

"The Philosopher's Stone…"

"You know about it?" Harry asked. "I couldn't find anything in the school library…"

"I'm not surprised," Percy said. "It's only mentioned in one library book that you could have accessed, and I currently have the only copy."

"What does that say about it?"

Percy paused for a moment, as if trying to remember. "The Philosopher's Stone can be used to brew an immortality potion called the 'Elixir of Life' and can transform any metal in pure gold."

Harry nodded. "That would be enough to attract… well, who we think it was… Although I'm not sure about the 'definitive article' there, my sources suggest that either he lied about creating it, or it's been stolen before… not sure which is more likely…"

"The latter surely?"

"Maybe," Harry agreed. "However, other reports I've had through friends of Karen in the States suggest that there might be at least four artefacts sometimes known as the 'Philosopher's Stone'."

"Four?" repeated Percy. "I've only heard of one."

Harry nodded. "According to my sources, there are at least four different Stones: Flamel's La Pierre de Vie; the Infernal Stone; the Midway Stone… I'm still waiting on confirmation of that one; and an Atlantean Stone that dates back thousands of years."

"That's…"

"Unbelievable?" suggested Harry.

Percy nodded.

"But that's the one I've got the best information on," Harry countered. "Aunt Mera found references to that one – also known as the Trochós tou Kósmou – in the Conservatory's archives."

"The Wheel of the World…" mused Percy. "Interesting name… What does that one do?"

"A few different things apparently," Harry replied. "Dimensional and time travel… mind control… nobody's entirely sure of its limits… assuming it has any."

"Everything has limits, surely?"

"Not always," Harry told him. "And not always the same ones…"

Percy looked like he wasn't sure what to make of that but didn't argue further. "Do you have any plans over Christmas?"

"I'm going back to Smallville," Harry told him. "I'll be nice to see Mom and Pa again… this is the longest time I've been away from them since she adopted me. What about you? Ron says that your parents want you at home?"

Percy nodded, "I have an interview at the Ministry during the holidays."

"For a job next year?"

Percy nodded again. "In the International Magical Co-Operation department."

"With Bartemius Crouch."

"You've heard of him?"

"A few things," Harry confirmed. "I'm not sure I like his wartime record as Head of Magical Enforcement, but he seems like a good pick for International Magical Co-Operation, apparently he's one of the most skilled magical linguists in the world."

Percy nodded. "Was there anything else?"

"No, that's it," Harry confirmed as they turned into the corridor outside Gryffindor Tower.

"Good night, then."

"Good night, Percy."

*-*-*
History of Magic Classroom,
Hogwarts,
Scottish Highlands.
December 7th, 10:25 GMT.

"Nine inches of parchment on the history of cauldron development and the impact on potions innovation," declared Professor Binns in his usual drone as the bell rang for the end of the period.

The class roused themselves from their usual stupor and rushed for the exit.

"I'll see you guys in the Common Room later," Harry told Ron and Hermione as they reached the main staircase. "I've got that meeting with the headmaster to 'discuss my options'."

"Harry…"

He held up his hand, "I know… I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, I just hope he gives me and mine the same."

Hermione gave him a sceptical look but said nothing.

*-*-*
10:30 GMT.

"Ice Mice," Harry told the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. The statue hopped out of the way and allowed him to step onto the stairs. He rode the moving staircase upwards, and was just about to knock when a voice echoed from inside the office, telling him to come in. Harry opened the door and scanned the room, he was pleased to see that – other than the Headmaster's phoenix, Fawkes, who trilled a greeting – they were alone.

"Have a seat, Harry," said the headmaster. "I meant to ask before… how are you settling in here? It must be quite an adjustment?"

"I'm good, Professor." Harry assured him, as he sat down and dropped his bag on the floor. "I've done a fair bit of travelling with Mom, or Aunt Mera, or Aunt Lois and Uncle Clark…"

Dumbledore nodded. "I hear you started a club?"

"The Babel Club, sir." Harry confirmed with a nod. "It's a language and culture club. Mostly Gryffindors and a few Ravenclaws at the moment, but I'm hoping to recruit some Hufflepuffs in the new year."

"Have you considered inviting any Slytherins?"

Harry made a face. "I haven't exactly had a good start with that house, sir. I did think about approaching Blaise Zabini. He's not one of Draco's gang and rumour has it he knows a few languages…"

Dumbledore nodded, and Harry thought he saw the hint of smile under his bushy beard. "Do you know why I've asked you here, Harry?"

"Professor McGonagall said you wanted to discuss my options, Professor?"

The headmaster nodded. "After your parents were murdered, I intended to see to your placement in a suitable environment to allow you to grow up and have a safe, normal childhood."

"Normal is often overrated, Professor," observed Harry dryly, then bent down and took a cardboard file from his bag. "However, I assume that your intention was to place me with my biological mother's sister…" he opened the file and pretended to check it. "Petunia Dursley – nee Evans – sir?"

"Yes," agreed the Headmaster. "I felt it was the best option to keep you safe and away from your fame."

Harry nodded. "A reasonable goal, Professor. The Muggle authorities also considered that option. In the end, they discarded it."

"Really?"

"Yes sir," Harry confirmed. "Due to opposition from Mrs Dursley."

"Interesting…" mused the headmaster. "I originally intended to search for you until I found you and bring you back to your family…"

Harry hissed in annoyance at that comment, but remained silent, a small frown on his face.

"However, once my initial covert investigations proved unsuccessful and my limited sense of matters suggested that you were safe and happy…"

"I assume that you couldn't find me because I was living as a Lang, not a Potter, Professor," Harry observed. "And maybe because I was in the States, rather than in Britain."

"That was my conclusion once I found your entry in the Book of Admittance," agreed the headmaster. "However, as that information is now publicly known, I feel that reverting to the original plan would be safer."

Harry sighed. "Aunt Mera assumed as much from your previous conversations, so she had one of the Justice League's magical contacts conduct a follow-up investigation last month."

"Have they come to any conclusions?"

Harry nodded, indicating the file in his hand.

"I would like to see that information," said the headmaster. Despite the polite phrasing, it was not a request.

"Of course," agreed Harry, closing the file and offering it to the headmaster. "You can have my copy."

"Thank you."

Harry sat in silence while the headmaster leafed through the document. After a moment, he started. "Your cousin is in St Brutus' Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys?"

"Apparently," confirmed Harry. "Although 'incurable' may be unnecessarily harsh in his case. He's making some progress… the staff think that he'll be a productive citizen before his eighteenth birthday."

Dumbledore nodded and returned to the report.

Just as the bell rang for the beginning to lunch, the headmaster sighed, closed the file and set it down on his desk. "I will need to do some research of my own to confirm… But the name Jason Blood is known to me, so I doubt I will find anything he missed."

Harry nodded.

"Therefore, it would appear that we have a problem."

"I disagree, Professor," said Harry firmly. "I'll be far safer in Smallville than I ever could be with the Dursleys, even with the blood protections."

"But the Death Eaters could get to you there.…"

"Professor, no Death Eater has set foot in the United States since three of them tried to use an illegal Portkey to get there in seventy-two and ended up in the Louisiana Bayou."

"That was never reported."

"Maybe not on this side of the pond, sir," Harry conceded. "But Swampy's a friend of a friend."

"Swampy?"

"The Swamp Thing," Harry clarified. "The undead plant creature – who may once have been the botanist Alec Holland – that protects the Louisiana Bayou, Professor."

"Interesting," mused the headmaster. "But now that your new identity is known… anything's possible…"

"Anything's possible," Harry agreed. "But that doesn't mean it's a good idea, or likely to work."

"Still, I would feel better if you had extra protection," pressed the headmaster. "Perhaps Remus Lupin – a friend of your father's – could join you for the holidays? He is a skilled wizard and well acquainted with Death Eater tactics."

"I'll need to check with Mom that it's all right, Professor," Harry replied with a shrug. "But I don't think it'll be a problem. There'll be enough people coming in and out of either Mom or Pa's over the holiday that one more shouldn't make much of a difference."

"You're expecting a large crowd?" The headmaster asked.

"Didn't Madam Hooch tell you about the party the day she brought my letter, Professor?"

"She may have mentioned it," admitted the headmaster after a moment.

"Professor, I feel a great swell of pity for anyone who comes to Smallville looking for trouble," Harry paused for a moment, then looked the headmaster straight in the eye. "Because they'll find it."

*-*-*
Pateley Bridge,
West Riding of Yorkshire, HG3.
December 7th, 16:36 GMT.

"We've not seen you around much lately, Mr Lupin," noted the grocer as he rang up Remus' shopping. "You've not been ill, have you?"

No more than usual, Remus thought to himself. "I'm fine, thanks."

"A job was it then?"

Remus nodded. "A fruit-picking job at an orchard up north. I only got back a couple of days ago."

The grocer nodded, apparently satisfied. "Well, it's good to hear that you're well, Mr Lupin. That'll be five pounds exactly."

Remus thought that was extremely unlikely and considered arguing the point. However, he'd tried and failed before and he could do with saving the money, so he held his tongue and handed over the requested sum without comment.

"Have you been into the sweet shop yet?" asked the grocer as he exchanged the note for Remus' bag.

"Not yet."

"You should. They've got some nice stuff in for Christmas this year."

"I'll think about it," replied Remus, sorely tempted but not if his purse could bear the expense, despite his recent saving.

*-*-*
Riggs Moor,
18:06 GMT.

He was just out of sight of the road and debating whether to risk a Lighting Charm to help him navigate the damp and gloomy night when the area was flooded with light as a swan-sized bird appeared in front of him in a flash of fire.

Remus staggered backwards, dropping his packages and falling on a bit of dry-stone wall. "Fawkes?"

Fawkes hopped over and extended a clawed foot with a note attached. Remus reached down to remove the note.

As soon he was free of his burden, Fawkes looked around as if considering his surroundings and then disappeared in another flash.

Remus debated opening the envelope then and there but eventually decided not to and slipped the envelope into a pocket, picked up his packages and continued on his journey towards home.

*-*-*
19:10 GMT.

Remus entered his cottage, unpacked his shopping and then while some food was cooking in the oven, he retrieved the letter and sat down at his table to read it. The note inside was short and to the point:

Dear Remus,

I hope you are well.

As you may be aware, Harry Potter was finally located shortly before the beginning of term. Initially, I hoped to use this to finally place him with his aunt and uncle for his protection, however it turns out that this is no longer a suitable option, so I have reluctantly conceded to him returning to his adoptive home in the United States. Despite Harry's assurances that he will be safe there, I would like to send you there to provide additional protection.

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore.

That's not going to be easy… and I've a feeling that there's something, maybe even several somethings, that he's not telling me, thought Remus to himself. But I'll do it. For the headmaster… particularly as it's for Harry too… I'd do anything.