Never thought I would write fifty chapters on this thing. Much less over one hundred and twenty thousand words. At first it was just a connecting of random ideas I had floating around, but now I think I have a full plotline set up, both for this, and possibly sequels in the future. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this and either commented, reviewed, followed, favorited, etc. It means the world to me. Catch you.

I own nothing. Least of all this.

1:51

Cas twirled on the spot. "Witcher…why have you brought us to the dungeons?"

"Quite simple, Cas. As of right now, I don't trust Mr. Lupin here anywhere near Harry, or anyone else come to think of it. I'm getting a rather bad feeling as to why Werewolf McWerewolf would ever jump through the ridiculous hoops for creatures to get to America, when he would have a hard-enough time fitting in in England."

Lupin looked up from where he'd landed on the floor. Still frozen in fear.

"Cas, Jody, keep him covered. I'm going to check his mind."

Lupin whimpered at that and seemed to crouch even further into himself. Tough, buddy. I didn't give him time to react beyond shutting his eyes and covering them with his hands. As if I needed eye-contact!

I grabbed him by the head, placed my thumbs to his temples, and pushed.

WHOAH! Okay, not a human mind. Definitely not even a Time-Lord one. Must be the wolf part of him. Interesting. Since he was unable to learn occlumency, the wolf protected his mind by legilimizing back anyone that did it too him first. Nasty. But I was better. I slipped by the wolf, and went deeper.

Images…

Voices…

Objects…

Places…

Ah. Gotcha.

Just a few scenes placed in Lupin's mind to show what Dumbledore's true plan was and…

I yanked myself back to reality, and immediately ripped the watch from Lupin's wrist.

Jody reacted first. "Whoah! What was that for?"

"Portkey." I replied. "Another form of magical transport. Would've taken Lupin and anyone he was touching directly to the whiskered wanker upon whispering the activation phrase. Not that it would have worked here: too much warding."

Lupin had started whimpering again. "No, no, no, no…"

Cas took a step forward. "What did you do to him, Witcher."

"Showed him the truth. Well, part of it anyway."

"What did you find?"

"Huh? Oh; Dumbledore knows Harry and Dudley are in America. He's convinced himself that Vernon was murdered by Petunia, who then took the boys and ran. He sent Lupin here to see if he could find them, and make an offer of full amnesty if they would return to England. If they refused, Lupin was to grab Harry, and three seconds later, be handing him back over to ye old goat."

Jody paled at that. "He wouldn't…"

A cough from behind us. "He…would…Dumbledore…knows…best…"

"Dumbledore don't know crap. Shut up, Lupin."

Another cough. "Yes…Alpha…"

What the…

"Alpha? What do you mean, Alpha?"

"The wolf…big, Bad…She's Alpha of all…I can tell…And you are Hers…while She is gone…you are Alpha…White Wolf…"

Bollocks. This could either make things a whole lot easier, or a whole lot harder.

Guess which one I was betting on?

"If I'm your Alpha, can you still be the Alpha of your own pack?"

"Yes, Alpha."

"Okay, enough of the 'Alpha', I get enough of that from bad fanfiction. OW!"

Dang bricks.

I rubbed my head. "Until I say otherwise, please call me 'Boss'. After all, I am going to be paying you, in a manner of speaking."

Cas tilted his head. "One minute ago, you were prepared to shoot this man for being untrustworthy. And now you're offering to pay him?"

"Not monetarily. In a currency far more valuable."

"And what might that be?"

A noise came from behind as Lupin pushed himself to his feet. "Revenge...of course."

I nodded. "Beginning right now. Cas, you got any of those explosives left over from earlier?"

"Why?"

"Well, seeing as how it is Dumbledore's Portkey, I thought it might be the polite thing to do to return it. With compensation, of course."

Jody's face lit up with a nasty smile. "I think that would be the polite thing to do, yeah."


An extremely plain envelope appeared on the desk of one Albus Brian Dumbledore.

On the front was no inscription, but the back was sealed with something I thought ought to worry the old bugger even more than he currently was: the symbol of the Men of Letters.

Upon seeing that, I had no doubt that Dumbledore would begin testing the envelope in every conceivable manner, especially upon the realization that it had been accompanied by a certain watch. Joke was on him; there was absolutely nothing magical about the paper.

After making extremely sure there was no ill intent to the message, Fumble-Bore would eventually, and very carefully, open the envelope. Upon doing so, he would reveal a very simple, and quite alarming, note:

DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES

Thirty seconds after the envelope materialized, the office of one Albus Brian Dumbledore had all of its windows blown out by a rather large, fiery explosion. One could only hope it had managed to catch his beard as well.


"Well," I said as I rubbed my hands together, "Let's hope that was sufficiently dramatic."

Lupin looked at me with only resignation in his eyes. "Was that necessary?"

"Getting Dumbledore to believe you're dead? Yes. Doing it in such a way he'll have a hard time proving it? Also, yes. Adding on a little extra flair? No. That I did purely out of spite."

He slowly nodded. "…When can I see Harry?"

"Tomorrow. If Cas agrees to it. Right now, and for the rest of the day, what you are going to do is make a list of every inconsistency and questionable decision that Albus Brain Dumbledore has made for 'the greater good.' Hopefully, that should trash any shreds of respect you may still harbor for him after what I showed you."

He nodded again, and was about to walk away when a thought seemed to strike him. "…You left them out. His middle names. Why?"

"He has no other middle names, beyond Brian. Got to wondering why a set of parents would do that to a kid without doing it to his brother, so I looked into it. He made up each and every single one of those names just to make himself sound more impressive."

"…I believe you. I'll just…make the list, then. Might I trouble you for a pen and paper?"

"There on the shelf. Might have to go through a few to find ink; they've probably been sitting there for a while."

He grabbed a ream of paper, and a cup full of assorted pens, then sat down at a desk and began to write.

Cas cleared his throat from where he'd been watching. "This list…will we be able to trust it? To trust him?"

"Will everything on that list be correct as far as he knows it? Probably. Will some of it be suspect because its original source is Dumbledore? Absolutely. This isn't for our benefit; it's for his. If he's forced to lay out in an orderly manner exactly what has happened in his admittedly sad life, he may finally be able to see at least some of the truth of it."

"You mentioned truth earlier. You said you'd shown him some of it. What, exactly, was that?"

"What really happened to the rest of the Marauders. James Potter's closest friends. And, all of them in their own way, his greatest betrayers. Lupin here included."

"…That can't have been pleasant for him."

"The truth is never pure, and rarely simple. Oscar Wilde. Watch Lupin; bring him some food if he asks. I think it's safe to say he won't be running."

Cas nodded, and took his own seat in a chair with a view of both the exit and Lupin's desk. Good on him.

Now, if I hurried, I could just catch Ted Tonks before he left his office. One advantage of being a Time Lord; you're never thrown off by changing time zones. I smoked away.


"So…you're telling me…all of this means nothing if a member of the Wizengamot doesn't bring it to the attention of a session?"

Ted nodded. "And I very much doubt any of the sitting members would be willing to cross Dumbledore on this, considering how important it seems to be to him."

"…Bollocks. Looks like we're going with plan B."

"And what's that?"

"I'm going to be using Malfoy much sooner than I had anticipated."

"Malfoy? As in, Lucius Malfoy?"

"That's the wanker."

"…One does not simply use a man like Lucius Malfoy."

"And men like Major Smith don't just simply drive off of cliffs."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Muggle book quote. Where Eagles Dare. Which is, ironically, more or less what we're going to need to pull off. Here, read this. Should clear up any questions you might have, as well as what exactly I'm going to be paying you for in the foreseeable future."

I handed over my psychic paper, listing everything possible I could think of. Longbottoms, Bones, Malfoy, Greengrass, the Wizengamot, the Chief Warlock, the Ministry itself. While Ted was reading, I picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet he had left sitting on his desk.

"GRUESOME KILLINGS CONTINUE!" Thank goodness they had seen fit to leave out the pictures this time. They had probably gotten a lot of flack over that with Umbridge. Fudge, of course, was saying quite a lot of nothing, and making promises he couldn't possibly keep. No surprise, the gist of the article seemed to suggest a killer was on the loose who held a grudge for Death Eaters who had gotten away with their crimes, as well as those who enabled them to do it. As such, the DMLE was quite clearly dragging its heels thanks to its Director. I knew Amelia Bones held no love for Death Eaters, not after her brother and sister-in-law had been slaughtered. Hopefully, she took the opportunity to investigate those "upstanding members of society," and would maybe even catch a few spies I was unaware of. Which would of course give me even more ammunition to use in my mission to destroy the current regime's reputation.

"Merlin…this…this is…"

"At least twelve percent of a plan, wouldn't you say?"

"…If you pull this off, you could very well change Magical Britain forever."

"About damned time. Can you and your family do it?"

"We'll certainly give it the old college try."

"Then that's all I can ask. Good day, Ted."

"Wait, sir. There is one more matter that needs your attention."

"And that would be?"

"Well, it seems sir, that owls have been unable to reach your current place of residence. As a result, there have been quite a few letters addressed to you in care of our firm. I have taken care of the ones that were made with questionable intent; the evidence has already been sent to the DMLE. Surprisingly enough, one of the suspect letters was from our dear friend the Bearded Bumbler. And here…" he hauled up a huge pile of papers from behind his desk, "…are the rest."

I should have seen it coming; I was a brand-new Lord, of three houses, who had appeared out of literally nowhere. The only reason it had taken this long, I suspected, was a combination of the wards I had been spending most of my time under in the bunker, as well as the writers themselves deciding exactly how best to approach me. Once Skeeter revealed I had been around since at least the 1870's (not technically a lie), things had gotten even more complicated about me. I suspected the only reason Ted had received any at all was that Malfoy had leaked to his buddies that "Doof And Schmirtz" was my law firm of choice.

That being said, there were only a few of those letters I was interested in.

"Nott, Parkinson, hmmm, Zabini…" I remembered her being referenced as a Black Widow on numerous occasions. Whether she was on her own side, or Voldemort's, would remain to be seen. I set that one aside for future perusal and continued onward.

"Various investments in the Alley and Hogsmeade, definitely keeping Zonko's and Fortescue's, Bones as House Bones, Bones as the DMLE, Ogden…"

Ted interjected. "Dumbledore's number two man in the Wizengamot."

"…Malfoy, Lovegood, and Greengrass."

Might as well start with the last one first. I slit open the letter from Greengrass, and began to read. To more I read, the more alarmed I became. I didn't remember anything like this in the lore. This would have to be handled. Now.

"Mr. Tonks, I hate to throw this on you last minute, but I need you to remain here until I return."

"…Is it that serious?"

"Blackly."

"…Don't you mean deadly?"

"Worse than that, I'm afraid."

"…I see. I presume I'll keep the rest of your correspondence here until then as well, yes?"

"It would be much appreciated. Oh, and one more thing. I shall need to use your Floo."


"Lord Greengrass. I came as soon as I read your letter. Anything that would convince you to offer the return of any claim on a Basilisk cannot be good. What's happened?"

Greengrass' face was deathly pale. "I am afraid, my Lord…that you happened."

I blinked. "…What?"

"You have to understand…when your story came out…everyone who was anyone began to investigate the reemergence of three Most Ancient lines…and they realized…"

"That I haven't got a lady for any of them. Yes, so?"

"So…once you became England's most eligible bachelor…all the other bachelors…those with betrothal contracts already written…began to worry if those contracts would be broken for a chance of…well, of you."

"…I don't like where this is going."

"I'm sorry, but it has to be said. We've had a contract for Daphne, our eldest, practically since she was born. With the strict understanding it wouldn't be activated until after Hogwarts, and with a man we considered trustworthy enough…but now…"

I finished the sentence. "He's called it in."

Greengrass nodded sadly.

"How long?"

"…Midnight tonight."

"…And what do you want me to do?"

"…Buy it out. For any name, I don't care which."

Bollocks. And here I was thinking it was just people like Harry Potter and the Doctor who were Fate's boytoys.

"…Who is the holder?"

"A Lord named Tiberius Ogden."

"…Dumbledore. He's calling in all his alliances to keep me from snatching any of his connections if it turns out I'm not on his side."

"That was my thought as well."

"How much?"

He named a sum.

"…You Lords certainly don't do things cheaply, do you?"

I sighed, and rubbed the back of my head. "…Before I say anything, I would like to talk to Daphne first. Alone. If that is acceptable."

Greengrass considered it, and then nodded his agreement. "I'll send her in directly…" he said as he left the study.

I poured myself a Fire-whiskey (I thought I deserved it), and stood watching the fire. If I didn't get myself into the darndest of situations…

I felt for Daphne, I really did. She had been one of my favorite characters, the kind of Slytherin people like Draco and Parkinson should have been. If I remembered correctly, she had died at the Battle of Hogwarts. Probably on purpose, considering what awaited her after Hogwarts. Her sister, Astoria, had survived and married Draco, something I was sure Lord Greengrass had not been happy about. All in all, the Greengrass family had a bad stick in the future. What was the harm in helping them hold it?

The study door opened behind me.

"You asked for me, Lord Howlfang?"

"Yes, Miss Greengrass. Come in, please."

She did so. She had obviously been learning occlumency; her emotions were practically hidden. But I could still see the anxiety, the desperation, and above all, the fear. That, more than anything, settled the matter for me.

"…You father has relayed to me the circumstances that surround you. He has also relayed his wishes and his feelings. I would ask that now, you do the same."

"…It would be a great honor to stand beside you, my Lord. To be attached to you in the public sphere would be a great boost to my family's reputation, as well as our social standing. I wish to serve as my Lord directs, in…any manner he may do so."

"All completely acceptable reasons to any other man. But I ask you, not as a Lord, not as a man, but as a friend concerned for you, Miss Greengrass, what are your wishes? And what are your feelings?"

"I…I…"

"Yes, my dear?"

Then the tears began to come. "I can't…I can't live with that…horrible man…he's old…he's cruel…he…he…please, my Lord, please, I can't…I just can't…"

I knelt down in front of her. "Hey, hey, it's okay. It'll be okay. I would like to say I'm not old like he is. I cannot. I would like to say I am not cruel, as he is. Once again, I cannot. But what I can tell you is this…I will never force you into anything, as he is trying to do. Your path in life will be your own. I shall not interfere, except to offer you assistance whenever you have need of it. If that is enough for you, then I shall do what I can to save you."

Large, teary, blue eyes stared into my own. The next thing I knew, I was being hugged tighter than I ever had in my life.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank…" she sobbed. I gingerly reached around, and began to rub her shoulders.

"As much as I would like to stay like this, Daphne, don't you think it would be a good idea to let your parents know?"

"Yes…yes, of course, my Lord…"

"None of that now, Daphne. It's Hadrian, from now until eternity."

"...Yes, Hadrian."

She made to stand, and I did so with her, letting her keep her grip on me. "Now, knowing the amount of stress you've probably been under, I believe you deserve this."

I held out my glass of Fire-whiskey. "Just don't tell your Father."

Slowly, she took a sip. Then immediately began coughing.

"Yeah, it does that the first time. You'll get used to it. Now, your parents."


A second blonde missile hit my kneecaps. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

I reached down and rubbed her head. "You're quite welcome, Astoria. You shan't be losing your sister, if I have anything to say about it."

A squeal from Astoria, who then immediately released me and latched on to Daphne.

Lord Greengrass looked as if he had just gone three rounds with a troll. "How can we ever repay you?"

"First of all, don't ever do something that stupid to Astoria. Rule number one of older men: you can't trust any of them. Myself included. Secondly, don't thank me yet. You're coming with me to hash things out with my lawyer, and deal with Lord Ogden. And don't dare say another word about your share of the Basilisk; that, we had already negotiated. You're keeping it. We'll work something else out later."

Greengrass nodded.

"Oh, and one more thing." I said, as I headed to the Floo.

"Yes?"

"If I'm really going to be your potential son-in-law, don't you at least think you ought to tell me your first name?"

A small smile crossed his face. "Cyrus…Cyrus Greengrass."

I stuck out my hand. "Hadrian Howlfang. Also known as John Winchester, also known as the Witcher. Pleased to meet you."

A look of confusion crossed his face as he took my hand. "Pardon me, but did you just…"

I yanked him forward into the Floo. "TED TONKS, OFFICES OF DOOF AND SCHMIRTZ!"

"SAYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEE!"


"Well, gentlemen," said Ted, leaning wearily over his desk, "Is this acceptable?"

Cyrus and I both leaned forward and began to read. Once again, Ted Tonks had proved worth his weight in gold. The negotiations had gone much easier with Lord Ogden than I had anticipated; it turned out he was just as unhappy with the situation as we were. He hadn't wanted to be bothered with what he called "the training of a proper lady', and would have been all too eager to simply 'take the girl off your hands when she was fully molded.' A statement which would have had his hair removed if Ted hadn't calmed everyone down. As it was, Ogden wasn't happy at all with Dumbledore, and looked quite gleeful to be pulling one over on him. If Dumbledore's supposed number two man was put out with him, things could only get worse for the Self-Righteous Sorcerer from here.

But this was an excellent place to start.

"My Lord…Hadrian…I mean no disrespect, but…why is there no option for Daphne to break this contract? You're the one that warned us against old men; why, then, have you done what Ogden did?"

"One very simple reason, Cyrus: the minute you and your daughter sign this, you will both be targets. If you and the rest of your family were to be killed, then Daphne could conceivably end up under someone's control who would rather she have absolutely no ties to me. I myself can think of several methods that could be used on your daughter to make her break the arrangement, leaving both you and your family vulnerable. And those same methods would be…less than effective if used on me. That being said, there are probably some other methods that I am not aware of that could influence me as well, which is why there is a place where you or Daphne can choose to sign to grant me permission to break the contract. Permission I must have if I am to change this document in any way. I would have made it two out of the three of us required to break it, but out of the three of us, I am the only one I can say with any degree of certainty cannot be either killed or controlled. I hope I have explained clearly enough?"

"…Yes, yes, I think so. Very well. I shall sign first."

He did so.

"I must ask, why the Slytherin name?"

I answered as I signed. "Let's just say, that if the unthinkable were to happen to me, then that name has the best chance of providing for your family and Daphne."

And that best chance was named Harry Potter, Magical Heir of Slytherin.

"There. All we need now is Daphne's signature, and that will be that."

Cyrus rose. "I'll fetch her."

Ted and I watched as he disappeared through the Floo. "Merlin…you don't do things by half, do you Hadrian?"

"I try my best."

It wasn't long before the green fire lit once more, and Cyrus returned, escorting…

"Good evening again, Daphne."

She curtsied. "Hadrian. Mr. Tonks."

"Ted, please miss. We're all friends here."

Cyrus' eyes flashed with mirth. "At the very least. Are you ready, Daphne?"

"…No…but it must be done…"

I knelt down once more in front of her. "I know. And I wish you could have chosen this of your own accord. Sign, or don't. That's as much of a choice as I could get for you; not much of one, I know. But please remember that I tried."

"…I will…"

She moved to the desk, took the quill, and very slowly, signed her name. The instant she did so, a glow came from the paper, and then faded away. She turned, and threw herself into her father's arms. He held her tight, slowly rose, and began to carry her toward the Floo.

"I think she's had quite enough excitement for one day. That being said, don't you dare leave just yet. I've got a few more things to discuss with you."

"Perfectly understandable. I'll wait."

He disappeared into the fireplace, leaving Ted and I alone once more.

"So…how bout the rest of those letters, hmmm?"


"Apparently, the letter from Malfoy is actually from the Junior. He remembered that Harry and I seemed acquainted, and asked me to pass along an invitation for the both of us to come play some Quidditch at his manor before term starts."

Ted scratched at his paper. "And will you?"

I shrugged. "If Harry likes. I'll give him an answer on Friday."

"…Ah, yes. The Longbottoms. That's gonna be quite the ant hill."

"Won't it just. You got those replies written out yet?"

He counted down the envelopes. "Nott, done. Parkinson, done. Bones for her House, done. Still don't know why you want to get close to her in that capacity, and not just as DMLE Director."

I did. If Neville ended up in Hufflepuff, it would be that much easier for him to get close to Susan. That, and I had heard theories that Amelia Bones was Sirius Black's ex-girlfriend. I was curious to see if there was any truth to them.

Lovegood had merely sent a copy of the Quibbler with our article on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, with a note thanking me for the opportunity. And what may have possibly been pudding stains. Zabini had wanted exactly what I suspected; a chance to snag Mysteriously Disappearing Husband Nine. Oh, and apparently a father figure for her son Blaise. Go figure. I had shot down the first, but consented to keep a special eye on Blaise during the upcoming school year. Best to keep on Zabini's good side as much as possible, after all. Lastly, Bones as DMLE Director. She had thanked me somewhat stiffly for the gift, and had floated the idea of lunch to discuss "mutually beneficial arrangements". If it had been the letter for her House, I would have suspected a Consort Contract. But this had seemed to suggest things of a more informative nature, which I was more than happy to concede. I had offered any day within the next week for the mentioned lunch, and said I would wait for her reply.

"And Ogden, well, we already handled. I'll just finish up these replies to Fortescue and Zonko's, and we should be done for the night."

"Not quite, my friends." Funny; I hadn't even heard Cyrus come through. "First, there are two things I should very much like to know, Hadrian. One: when and where did you acquire alternate names, and why do you use them? And second: why did you sign that contract using the name of "The Witcher", and have Magic accept it as your own?"


Cyrus Greengrass…wasn't looking so hot. "It's true…it's all true…what Skeeter wrote about…"

"My being around since at least 1875? Yes. I'm afraid so."

"And what she wrote about…"

"Immortality? More or less. I haven't cared to try dying yet and find out for sure."

"No…no, I can see why…Merlin…and to actually be the Witcher…the Witcher…I mean, the wizarding world has had legends of you since…since forever. The last we heard, you rescued the Queen of England from a werewolf attack…and then disappeared…"

I shrugged. "And now I'm back."

"And…will your heirs be…"

"Immortal? No. Long-lived, even by wizarding standards? Most definitely."

"And…Daphne?"

"I honestly can't say."

"…I see. So. You say you've been around since 1875, but we have records of you further back than that…are you, perchance, a Time Traveler?"

"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking. Hate Time Turners; they're an affront to reality."

"Then you would be pleased to hear that as far as I know, there now exists not a single one in Merry Old England."

Oops. "Really? Do tell."

"The Department of Mysteries has been looking privately into acquiring some. When I asked why they could not use one of their own, they were forced to admit it was because, somehow, they had all disappeared. And most peculiar of all, it happened on the night of the demise of the late Senior Undersecretary."

I swallowed. "…Fascinating. If the murderer is truly using the stolen Time Turners to accomplish these deeds, it would explain quite a lot…"

"Yes. Yes, that is what I had thought. And I quite agree with you; Time Turners really are an affront to reality. If they were to be destroyed entirely, I would not mind in the least. Well, I'm afraid I must leave you gentlemen. Dinner, and my wife, await. I wish you all a pleasant night."

Ted barely looked up from his notes. "You as well, Lord Greengrass."

I nodded as he rose. "Catch you on the Flip Side, Cyrus."

"You as well…" he said as he whirled away, "…son-in-law."

"Potential! Potential son-in-law!" I clarified.

But he was gone.

"Well, that just about wraps things up for me. But unlike Lord Greengrass, my wife has no idea what I've been handling for the past few hours, so you are bloody well coming with me to help explain."

The image of an irate Andromeda Tonks filled my head. Suddenly. I wasn't quite so sure all that had happened today had been a good thing.