Sep 25
When the
Roses Bloom
Again - The
Coming
Storm August 1966
Over the years, it was a dinner table that did not only
consist of himself and Minerva that Harry had come to
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appreciate, and with it being the summer holidays, he was
enjoying just that.
With Jasmine still at Hogwarts, it was not every day that
he had his children at home.
Rosa had married the previous year and lived in France
with her husband, a man that Harry was not fond of, but
one she had fallen for.
He played for the French national Quidditch team, and as
far as Harry was concerned, was an arrogant sod.
He had taken no small amount of joy in defeating him in a
battle of seekers.
Perhaps it was merely that Rosa was his daughter that he
couldn't see past his dislike for him, but so long as Julian
Borg remained respectful, Harry wouldn't take issue with
the man.
Jack too had left home but was unmarried.
Harry's only son was focused on his career as an auror,
something he excelled at, and something Harry was very
proud of Jack for.
He had become a good man who continued to dote on his
grandparents, and not a week went by that he didn't visit
Harry and Minerva.
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The twins had decided that they wanted to travel when
they graduated, something that Harry encouraged so long
as they had a suitable escort.
The girls weren't thrilled by the idea, but Harry was taking
no chances.
Having discussed it with Petr, the Russian had supplied
some discreet guards to watch over Dahlia and Iris.
Harry slept better at night knowing they were being looked
out for, even more so they he had provided them with
emergency portkeys, and other means to contact him
immediately if they needed to.
For now, however, they had returned home for a break and
to collect Jasmine who would be joining them having just
graduated herself.
After tonight, it would be some time that almost all of
them would be together again.
"Are you ready for your trip to the alley tomorrow, Bella?"
Jasmine asked.
None of the family had been surprised that Harry had
become a godfather to Charlus and Dorea's son, but the
addition of Bellatrix Black had taken them aback
somewhat, and even been a point of jealousy for Jasmine
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who had been young when the arrangement had been
made.
Still, the two had grown closer over the years, and when
Jasmine realised Bellatrix was no threat to her, she had
been much more welcoming.
"Are you still coming?" Bellatrix replied.
Jasmine offered the girl a smile.
"I am," she confirmed.
Bellatrix would be going to Hogwarts for her first year and
had asked Harry to take her to do her shopping.
Druella and Cygnus would be joining them too, but Bella
had wanted to spend Jasmine's final night at home with
her.
It was still often strange for Harry be the girl's godfather,
especially when he thought back to the woman she had
once been.
At first, he had mostly accepted to keep an eye on Bella, to
ensure she would not become what she had or to protect
wizarding Britain from that side to her, but he had
unwittingly come to care for her like she was one of his
own.
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She was a sweet girl, more impressionable than he would
like, but he had yet to see any madness in her, and he had
been watching closely.
Bella stayed with them often and had even been given her
own bedroom in the house, a place that she could call her
own whilst she was there.
The girl was no trouble, and adored Harry, a feeling he had
come to return mutually.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts by Jack huffing
frustratedly.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Jack shook his head and placed his fork on the table.
"It's this Smith case," he groaned.
"Smith case?"
"Old Hepzibah Smith was apparently poisoned by her own
elf," Jack explained. "It happened almost a year ago, and
now they've put me in charge of finding some missing
artefacts."
Harry frowned.
"Poisoned by her elf ?"
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"That's what Crouch decided happened, and the elf hasn't
said any differently, not that they'd listen to her."
Harry had never heard of an elf doing anything of the sort,
apart from Dobby who had defended him from Lucius
Malfoy, but he no longer belonged to the man when he'd
done so.
"Things went missing after she died?"
Jack nodded.
"A cup that once belonged to Hufflepuff, and a necklace
belonging to Slytherin."
"That can't be a coincidence," Harry muttered to himself.
"Elves don't just poison their masters."
"I said the same thing, but Crouch wouldn't hear it. It's
only gotten worse since he was made head of the
department."
Harry hummed disapprovingly.
He had heard of the man's appointment and remembered
his demise well enough.
Barty Crouch Jr still came to mind more often than Harry
would have liked.
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"It doesn't make any sense," Harry said thoughtfully. "The
elf, the missing artefacts…"
"Exactly," Jack agreed.
Harry fell silent for a moment.
"Kora?" he called.
The ever-loyal elf appeared next to him immediately,
offering a respectful bow.
"Master Harry," she greeted him.
"Is there any reason an elf would poison their own master?"
Kora was deeply offended by the question, her cheeks
puffing out as she stood at her full height.
"Never!" she said firmly. "Not even the baddest elf would
do it."
"Just as I thought," Harry muttered. "Is there any way an
elf could be tricked into doing it?"
Kora bit her lip and pondered the question before nodding.
"Only a very strong witch or wizard could make them."
"So, there is no way an elf would make a mistake like that?"
"We elves do not make mistakes."
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Her words were sincere, and Harry offered the creature a
grateful smile.
"Thank you, Kora."
With that, the elf vanished, and Harry considered what he
knew.
"Smith may have been killed by her elf, but it wasn't done
willingly or even by mistake."
"That means someone else was involved," Jack pointed out,
"and she must have known them. No one was getting in
there without permission or leaving evidence behind."
"She was a rich woman then?" Harry asked.
"Almost as rich as you, dad," Jack snorted.
Harry hummed thoughtfully.
Whoever had killed Smith had done it for the artefacts that
were missing, but that didn't exactly narrow down the list of
suspects.
There were many that would kill to possess such revered
items.
Still, Harry could not explain why.
It wasn't as though they could be sold or boasted of.
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He needed to learn more about these items.
"Do you know where they were kept?"
"In a locked safe," Jack explained. "It took a team of four
cursebreakers three days to get into it."
"So, it must have been opened willingly."
"It was," Jack confirmed. "Hokey admitted to it."
"And where is the elf now?"
"Being held by the magical creatures lot."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"You need to be careful with this one, Jack," Harry advised.
"I don't like the sound of it at all."
"I'm always careful," Jack chuckled, rolling his eyes at his
father.
He was, and Harry was pleased that his son was much
more cautious than he had ever been.
Nonetheless, there was something very intriguing about
this case, and Harry was determined to get to the bottom
of it.
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He knew where to begin too and could conveniently pay a
visit there during the trip to the alley in the morning.
"Could you get me five minutes with the elf ?"
Jack released a deep breath.
"Probably not, but you could get it yourself. No one is
going to refuse you, are they?"
Harry nodded.
It was one of the very few times he was pleased for his
reputation and depending on how his digging went the
next day, he may just need to speak to Hokey.
(Break)
Bellatrix skipped happily down the length of Diagon Alley
as she clutched onto Harry and Jasmine's hands. Today, she
would get her wand, and all the other things she would
need for her first year of Hogwarts.
She was sad that she wouldn't see Harry as much as she
did, but Minerva would be her Transfiguration professor,
and Jasmine had promised that she would write to her
every week.
Bella was keen to start her education.
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Having seen what magic was like, she couldn't wait to
experience creating it for herself.
Her dad was a strong wizard, her grandfather was even
stronger, but Harry was stronger than them both.
She remembered when she was really small that Harry
would create little shows for her out of bright lights from
his wand, and Bella would giggle excitedly at the various
creatures he would conjure.
"Shall I assume that you are excited?" her father asked
amusedly.
Bella nodded frantically.
"I can't wait!"
Cygnus laughed and her mother smiled.
Bella was pleased they had decided to come along, even if
her father and Harry had argued about who would be
paying for her things.
Harry won the argument, as he always did, except for when
he did so with Minerva, and he had given Bella a bag of
gold.
She had already gotten her books, her potions equipment,
and even her robes.
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The only thing left was what she was most excited for, her
wand.
For as long as she could remember, Harry had been
teaching her about magic. Not anything dangerous or
difficult, but small lessons that Bella would be able to
remember.
Harry loved magic, and she had never met anyone as good
with it as him.
"Baron Evans," the strange wandmaker greeted Harry. "I
was not aware you had another child."
"Bella is my goddaughter," Harry explained, and Bella
nodded proudly.
Mr Ollivander looked at her and smiled.
"Of course, you must be Miss Black," he greeted her. "Shall
we begin?"
Bellatrix nodded, and her mother placed her hands on her
shoulders to keep her still whilst a tape began wrapping
itself around her.
Ollivander hummed thoughtfully as he retrieved some
boxes.
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"Now, as a Black, I have a good idea of what wands may
choose you."
"Choose me?" Bella asked curiously.
"The wand chooses the witch, Miss Black," Ollivander
explained. "Now, try this one."
Bella took the offered wand and shuddered.
It felt cold, almost as though it didn't like her at all.
"No, most certainly not," Ollivander declared, snatching it
away from her before handing over another.
This one felt hot, a little too hot and the wandmaker took
it as quickly as he did the first.
"A balance between the two," he murmured.
The third one offered felt perfect. It was warm, but not
uncomfortably so, and Bella felt it connect to her
immediately.
"Success!" Ollivander declared proudly. "Walnut, dragon
heartstring, twelve- and three-quarter inches."
"Lumos," Bella murmured, and the tip of the wand lit up
brightly, eliciting a smile from the girl. "It works!"
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"Of course, it works," Ollivander chuckled. "That is quite
an unyielding wand," he added with a frown. "I believe it
will serve you well, Miss Black."
Bellatrix didn't know what the man meant, but she handed
him the required coins before leaving the shop with Harry,
Minerva, Jasmine, and her parents.
"How about some lunch?" Druella suggested.
"Only if Evans lets me pay for it," Cygnus replied.
Harry smirked and nodded.
"You go ahead, I will join you shortly."
"Can I come?" Bellatrix asked.
Harry shook his head as he wrapped an arm around her
shoulder.
"Not this time," he denied gently. "I won't be long."
He kissed her on the cheek before kissing Minerva and
heading towards Knockturn Alley.
"Where is he going?" Bella asked.
"With my dad, you never know," Jasmine sighed as she
took her hand and led her towards The Leakey Cauldron.
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(Break)
Knockturn Alley had become familiar to Harry over the
years. Despite its unsavoury reputation, it was the best
place to shop for certain items that vendors in Diagon
Alley didn't stock.
Before entering, he disguised his features as he always did
so not to alert the inhabitants to his presence.
He'd forgotten once, and the area had cleared in a matter of
seconds.
Ignoring the hags trying to sell him their wares, he headed
to the one shop he hoped would be able to provide him the
information he sought.
If there was anywhere someone had tried to sell such
distinguished items that had been illicitly obtained, it
would be Borgin and Burkes.
The bell tinkered as he entered, and an older man emerged
from the backroom, the curve to his spine giving the
impression of weakness.
Borgin was far from that, and as slippery as they came.
"How can I help you?" the man asked in a raspy voice.
"I'm looking for information."
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Borgin shook his head, a sly grin tugging at his lips.
"Information is for sale, if the price is right."
Harry smiled as he removed his disguise, and Borgin's eyes
widened.
"I'll pay," he assured the man, "but it depends on how
much you lie to me, Borgin. I don't appreciate being lied
to."
Borgin bowed and nodded his understanding.
"I run a legitimate business here, Baron Evans. I've not
broken any laws."
Harry shrugged.
"I'm not an auror, Borgin, and I couldn't care less what you
get up to."
The man eyed him questioningly for a moment before
releasing a deep sigh.
"What can I help you with."
"Are you familiar with Hepzibah Smith?"
Borgin winced art the mention of the woman.
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"I am," he confirmed. "I heard about her body being found.
Poisoned by her own elf."
"Apparently," Harry snorted disbelievingly. "Have you ever
heard of an elf doing that to its own master?"
Borgin shook his head.
"I can't say that I have."
"Me either," Harry replied. "What do you know about
her?"
"Not much," Borgin answered. "Caractus had more to do
with her than I did."
"Burke?"
Borgin nodded.
"Died a few years back didn't he."
"I'm sorry to hear it," Harry offered. "What about Smith?"
"What do you want to know?"
"About Hufflepuff 's cup and Slytherin's locket."
Borgin chuckled to himself.
"Caractus was foolish for selling her the necklace," he
grumbled. "We tried to get it back several times, and the
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cup, but she wouldn't sell."
"You had the necklace?" Harry asked curiously.
Borgin nodded.
"Caractus brought it decades ago from some scruff who
wandered in off the streets. He gave her ten galleons for it
and sent her packing."
"Did you get her name?"
"No," Borgin denied. "She was ugly as sin apparently, and
heavily pregnant."
"What year?" Harry pressed.
"Twenty-five, I think."
Harry frowned thoughtfully.
"And you sold it to Smith?"
"Caractus did for not even a hundredth of what it is worth.
Why are you asking?"
"Because both the cup and locket went missing after she
had died," Harry revealed.
Borgin was taken aback and shook his head.
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"Impossible," he declared. "She kept them locked up
tighter than a crab's arse."
"In a safe that took cursebreakers days to get into," Harry
confirmed.
Borgin huffed irritably.
"I'm no murderer if that's what you're insinuating," he said
hotly, "and I don't know anything about safes."
"I didn't think you did," Harry placated, "but if there was
anyone who would be interested in them, it would be you."
"I would," Borgin replied unashamedly, "but only a damned
fool would take them in the first place. I get raided by the
aurors regularly, and they can't just be sold on. They have
no worth, not even in bragging rights."
Harry nodded his agreement.
"My point is, Mr Borgin, that those artefacts weren't stolen
from the safe."
"The dozy cow got them out willingly," Borgin mused
aloud.
"Did she ever show them to you?"
The man shook his head firmly.
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"No, it's like I said, Caractus dealt with her. She showed
them to him, and he took a photo of the cup. We already
had one of the locket."
"Can I see them?"
Borgin nodded and shuffled into the back room.
He returned a few moments later and handed Harry several
photographs of the items.
The cup itself was rather plain and were it not for the
Hufflepuff crest etched into the bottom, it would not be
unique.
"Did she often get them out of the safe?"
Borgin shook his head.
"She boasted about having them to anyone that would
listen, but no one cared for the woman enough to visit her.
Caractus went once a year, and I only saw her twice after he
died. Both times were here in the shop."
Harry hummed but was cut off by Borgin.
"She might have told the boy that Burke took a shine to,
the one that ended up killing that girl and the headmaster.
I never liked the little shit and took no small amount of
pleasure in telling Caractus that I told him so."
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Harry didn't hear the last part of Borgin's statement.
His blood ran cold at the mention of what had happened to
Myrtle and Armando.
"Riddle?" he whispered.
Borgin nodded in displeasure.
"He worked here for a couple of summers," he explained.
"Burke took him to see Smith at least once. She wouldn't
have missed the chance to boast about them, and Caractus
would definitely have told him."
"Bollocks," Harry muttered. "Are you sure about this?"
"I would bet everything I own on it."
The man was being sincere, and Harry nodded gratefully as
he placed a stack of coins on the counter.
"For your own safety, I wasn't here."
"My safety?"
Harry smirked as he reached the door.
"You just gave me some very dangerous information to
know, Mr Borgin. My lips will stay sealed about where I
heard it, only if yours do."
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Borgin was once more taken aback.
"What do you mean, Evans?"
"It means that it is in your best interest to keep your mouth
shut. You don't want him coming after you."
With that, Harry reapplied his disguise and left the shop.
He needed to warn Jack to tread very carefully, or warn him
off if possible, and he needed to speak to Hokey.
Although he was certain of Tom's involvement, he needed
to confirm it.
Still, who else would do something so stupid for what
appeared to be no gain.
Voldemort.
Harry paused as he pondered just why he would take the
items and his jaw tightened as one word came to mind.
Horcruxes.
Of course, Voldemort would be egotistical enough to want
special items to corrupt with his soul.
Just how many was he planning to make?
How many were possible?
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Rubbing where his faint scar remained on his forehead,
Harry headed back towards Diagon Alley.
There was much to do, and there was no time to lose.
With a muttered incantation, he sent for Jack to meet them
in The Leaky Cauldron.
Keeping his son safe was his priority right now.
(Break)
Jack cursed under his breath and dragged his hand through
his hair. He was getting nowhere with the case he was
working on. There were too many missing pieces to form a
clear picture of what had happened, let alone where the
missing artefacts could be.
"Your father used to do that," Reg observed amusedly.
"My dad?"
Reg nodded.
"He'd mutter and play with his hair when he was planning
an attack during the war," he explained. "Everyone likes to
talk about the action, all of his deeds, but they don't know
what it was like for him. He'd spend hours looking at maps,
scouting in the most dangerous of places, when he wasn't
sending me and Gilbert."
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"I never thought of that," Jack murmured thoughtfully.
"No one ever does," Reg sighed. "It's easy to remember the
crazy things he did, but not how much work he did to keep
us all safe when we were away from the fighting."
"Did you see what happened with the dragon?"
Reg nodded soberly.
"I watched him outfly and kill the beast, but people forget
that before that, he killed dozens of werewolves by himself,
took down an erumpent, and even repelled a large
gathering of dementors."
Jack snorted as he shook his head.
"I find all of that hard to believe. My dad is so docile."
"And you'd better hope there is never a reason to see the
other side to him, Jack," Reg replied darkly. "Your dad is
the kindest man I know, but also the most dangerous. I pity
anyone who ends up on the wrong side of him."
"Is he that terrifying?"
"To his enemies, yes," Reg answered firmly, "but to those of
us who fought alongside him, he was a saviour."
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Jack had heard much about the war from several people,
but his father never spoke of those years, and Reg rarely did
either.
"I've seen some of what he can do with magic," he
explained.
Reg chuckled as he shook his head.
"If you need to question what he is capable of or the kind
of man he is below the surface, you've seen nothing boy,"
Reg countered. "Now, what's got you so rattled?"
Jack pointed at the pile of case notes he had been reading.
"So much is missing," he huffed. "I mentioned it to my
dad, and he thinks there's more to it. He thinks Smith was
murdered by someone else."
"Really?" Reg asked curiously. "What do you think?"
"I'm inclined to believe him. None of this makes sense."
"Evans!" a familiar voice barked.
A few seconds later, the duo were intruded upon by Barty
Crouch who looked as pleased as ever.
The man never smiled, and always appeared as though he
smelled something unpleasant.
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"Yes, sir?" Jack returned, standing tall and towering over his
superior.
"Have you made any progress?"
"Not yet, sir," Jack replied.
"Then get on with it, boy!" Crouch snapped. "The Smiths
want their items back, and the more I have them in my
office complaining, the more I'm coming for you. Get it
done!"
With that, the man left, and Jack lifted two fingers in his
direction.
"What a prick," he muttered. "Does he have it in for me?"
Reg laughed amusedly.
"Undoubtedly."
Jack frowned.
"What did I ever do to him?"
"Nothing," Reg assured him, "but he believes that your
father is a dark wizard because he killed Grindelwald."
"My dad, a dark wizard?"
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"Crouch isn't really wrong," Reg pointed out. "Your father
isn't evil, but he is known for his ruthlessness and attitude
towards killing when necessary. Crouch likes to think his
own shit doesn't stink and judges everyone on his own
morals. Funny that he didn't volunteer for the war."
"Well, I'm sick of him being on my case, the miserable
bastard."
Reg patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't let Crouch get to you. He's only got the arse because
he couldn't hope to compare to your father, let alone
convict him of anything. I could imagine him trying to
bring Harry in. It would take more than what we have to
do it."
"You think my dad could take on the whole auror
department?"
"Not in a straight fight, but your father is no fool. I can
almost guarantee that he is prepared for just about any
scenario."
"You make him sound paranoid."
Reg nodded.
"We spent years living in a place where we could be killed
at any moment," he pointed out, "and your dad was in
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charge of our safety. He took that seriously, and many of us
made it home because of his preparations. Don't you forget
that."
"I won't," Jack assured the man.
Hearing the wartime experiences from someone who had
been there was different from reading it in old newspaper
articles that undoubtedly embellished what had happened.
"Bloody hell," Reg gasped as an ethereal dog appeared
before them.
'Jack, I need you to meet me in The Leaky Cauldron as soon as
you can. I have some things to share with you. Speak with no
one else on the matter.'
The enormous dog faded, and Jack turned to look at Reg
who had paled.
"Every time I see that, it brings back the memories," the
man murmured.
"The dog?"
Reg snorted as he shook his head.
"That's no dog, Jack. That's a Grim, an embodiment of
death."
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"Come off it, you can't be serious?"
Reg was, and once more, Jack found himself wondering
about the kind of man his father was to his enemies.
"Best not keep him waiting," Reg suggested. "He wouldn't
ask you to meet him immediately if it wasn't urgent."
Jack nodded and packed away his files before pocketing
them.
"Are you coming?"
Reg shook his head.
"I have my own things to work on. Let me know if you
need any help."
"Thanks, Reg," Jack replied sincerely before taking his
leave of the auror office, pondering just what it was his
father had discovered in such a short amount time since
they'd spoken the night before.
(Break)
Harry had barely touched his food and pushed it around
his plate with a fork as he lost himself in thought of what
he had just learned.
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Minerva had noticed immediately that something was on
his mind, but it was not something to be discussed with the
others in their company.
As much as he tried to convince himself that the vague
connection Tom had to Smith was just that, Harry knew
better than to think such a foolish thing.
It had been decades since Voldemort had been an
immediate threat, but Harry had learned long ago how
dangerous the Dark Lord was.
To him, it would always be something he could never
forget.
His parents, Cedric, Sirius…
They had all paid the ultimate price.
No matter how seemingly distant Voldemort was
connected to something, Harry could think of no time that
he hadn't been.
He could already feel that this was no different, and though
he had been preparing for this for as long as he cared to
remember, Harry couldn't help but realise he'd never had so
much to lose to the man.
He shook his head, his grip tightening around the handle
of his fork as though it was Tom Riddle's neck.
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No, he would not lose another thing to the man.
It would be Harry who would haunt Voldemort, it would
be his foe that lived in fear of a more dangerous man
coming for him.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the arrival of Jack who
appeared to want to ask him something, but seeing Harry's
stony expression, he thought better of it.
With little more than a nod, Jack followed him to a table in
the corner, and Harry cast a plethora of privacy charms.
"That serious?" Jack chuckled.
Harry nodded darkly.
"As serious as it can be," he whispered.
Jack frowned at his father, his demeanour sobering him
immediately.
"What's happened?"
Harry deflated and dragged a hand through his hair.
"I'm almost certain of what happened to Smith, but I need
to confirm a few things first," he explained. "You know I
would never interfere in your work without reason, but I
need you to do something for me."
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"Of course," Jack answered immediately.
"Stay away from this case, Jack," Harry urged. "I will
explain everything I can when I know for certain, but this
is more dangerous than you can imagine."
"What's going on, dad?"
Harry released a deep breath.
"Do you remember what happened to Professor Dippet?"
Jack nodded.
"He was murdered by a seventh-year, him and a student."
"Exactly," Harry confirmed. "Tom Riddle is still wanted for
those murders, and many others on the continent. I am
certain he is behind what happened to Smith."
Jack's eyes widened almost excitedly.
"If I was to catch him…"
"No!" Harry said firmly. "You are to stay away from him,
Jack. He is as dangerous as they come, do you understand?"
"Dad, I'm a fully trained auror," Jack snorted.
"And he would tear you limb from limb," Harry replied
darkly. "Jack, I'm asking you to trust me on this. Let me
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handle this case for you."
Jack looked Harry in the eye and nodded his
understanding.
"Alright, dad, I know you wouldn't ask it of me if it wasn't
important, but what about you? If he is so dangerous,
shouldn't you stay away?"
Harry reached across and grabbed his son by the shoulder.
"I am more dangerous than Tom Riddle could ever
imagine," he said solemnly. "Trust me, Jack, this will be
bigger than you can imagine. Riddle is not the only
problem that is coming. I will do all I can to stop him, and
you will need to be ready for the rest."
"The rest of what?"
"War, probably," Harry shrugged. "That will happen if I
don't stop him soon enough."
"Bloody hell, you're serious."
Harry nodded.
"Deadly," he confirmed. "When you finish your shifts from
now on, I want you at home with me. I need to ensure you
are safe and can handle yourself."
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"I can handle myself."
"You need to be better, Jack, better than anyone else. I will
make that happen. Tell Reg too, I want you both there."
Jack nodded as he stood.
"What about Crouch?"
"Tell him to piss off for all I care," Harry huffed. "I will
speak with him when the time is right. For now, I need to
speak to the elf and check on a few other things. Let
whoever is in charge of the department know I'll be there
in an hour or so."
"I will," Jack assured him. "I'll speak to Reg. Should I keep
all of this to myself ?"
Harry nodded.
"It is important that you do. Speak with no one other than
Reg, not another soul."
"I won't let you down, dad," Jack vowed before taking his
leave from the pub.
Harry returned to his table where the others were finishing
up their meals.
"Something wrong, Evans?" Cygnus asked concernedly.
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"Just some family business," Harry replied dismissively.
"You know how it is."
Cygnus chuckled as he nodded.
"That I do," he concurred. "Anyway, we'd best be heading
home. Will you be at King's Cross in the morning?"
"I wouldn't miss it," Harry ensured the man before giving
Bellatrix a tight hug.
He would need to protect her from Voldemort.
The girl gave him a wave as she left with her parents, and
Harry turned towards Minerva.
"I need to go to the Ministry," he explained. "The thing
that I knew would happen is very much on our doorstep."
Minerva looked confused for a moment, but she paled
when the realisation hit her.
"Are you sure?"
Harry nodded.
"Almost certainly. I will know by the end of the day."
Minerva swallowed deeply and nodded.
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"We knew this day would come," she sighed. "Just be
careful, you stupid man."
Harry offered her a grin.
"Save that advice for him," he murmured as he too left the
pub and apparated to Little Hangelton.
He wanted to check on Morfin Gaunt to see if Tom had
attempted to pay his uncle a visit.
As Harry walked the country lane from the village, he
could feel that his magic around the property was still
intact, so Tom hadn't managed to breach his defences.
Still, the shack did not look to be in liveable condition, and
as he fought his way through the thick, overgrown foliage,
a familiar smell wafted towards him.
Death and decay.
Harry knew the scent well.
Any bodies that were left in the sun on the battlefield
would quickly begin to rot as the flies, maggots and crows
feasted upon the corpses.
Pushing open the door of the mostly collapsed building,
the source of the smell made itself known to him.
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In the middle of the living area was what remained of
Morfin Gaunt, little more than a pile of flesh and bone that
the rats had helped themselves to.
Surrounding him was several bodies of snakes that had
evidently stayed loyal to his decomposing form until the
very end.
Harry quickly deduced that there was no sign of foul play,
and that the man had likely died due to his own neglect
towards his health. The presence of the ring he had
transfigured so many years prior only attested to his notion
further.
Releasing a deep breath, he set to work and created a coffin
to place the man in.
The Gaunts had deteriorated to little more than an inbred
branch of a once great family, and Harry would afford the
man an honourable burial befitting the line he had
descended from.
When the box was sealed, he levitated it into the garden
and cleared an area below a willow a short distance from
the house where he dug a suitable hole.
Placing it within, he added a headstone before returning
the soil he'd removed.
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"Would your sister have done what she had if she knew
what a monster her son would become?" he asked.
Shaking his head, Harry engraved a message into the stone
so that when his magic one day faded, the world would
know what became of Morfin Gaunt.
Here Lies Morfin Gaunt, As Proud of his Heritage as any and
the Rightful Heir of Slytherin
With the finishing touches added, there was only one other
place Harry needed to visit to confirm what he strongly
suspected to be true.
Taking a final look around of what remained of the Gaunt
legacy, he disapparated, returning to London where he had
need of an elf 's assistance, and not for the first time in his
life.
(Break)
Lord Voldemort looked upon the circle of men seated
around the table in Lestrange Manor and held up a hand to
silence them. For years, decades, he had been waiting for
this moment.
Through the connections he had maintained with Rosier,
Nott, and Mulciber, he had managed to win others over to
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his cause, prominent men and women who had come to see
the direction that wizarding Britain was heading in.
His task had not been easy but having sown the seeds of
discontent amongst those he had gone to school with,
reiterating the point with them had not been difficult.
Convincing the others had been more challenging, but they
had come to see things his way in the end, and others
would soon follow.
"May I assume that you are all familiar with one another?"
he asked.
"Of course, we are," Lord Lestrange huffed.
He had been the most stubborn amongst them, but Vinda
had done a masterful job with the man.
"Then there is no need for introductions," Lord Voldemort
said with a smile. "You know why we are here. Wizarding
Britain is on the decline, the traditions our ancestors
implemented are under threat."
Lestrange snorted.
"I'm sorry, but I don't remember Voldemort being a known
British family," he pointed out.
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The Dark Lord nodded his understanding and hissed
loudly, eliciting a shudder from many of those gathered.
A large serpent slithered from within his sleeves and coiled
itself around his neck.
"Does that answer just who I am?" he asked.
Lestrange swallowed deeply and nodded.
"I am the heir of Slytherin himself."
"Are you?" Nott questioned curiously. "I was under the
impression that Evans was also a parselmouth. You have
shown me nothing new."
Lord Voldemort felt his blood boil at the mention of his
foe.
"Evans is a usurper that somehow stole the magic he uses,"
he snapped. "The man will die for his transgressions
against my family."
Nott openly laughed.
"You believe that you can kill him?" he questioned
amusedly. "The man is extraordinary."
"And I am more so," Voldemort counted. "I have gone
further than any to ensure that I cannot be defeated, that
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death will never come for me. When we right the wrongs
of society, it will be us that will sit atop the mountain,
crushing those below us with our might."
"We already are at the top of the mountain," Nott argued.
"But for how long?" Voldemort returned. "Ladies and
Gentlemen, I would urge you to take a look around at what
Britain has become. The mudbloods and filth laugh at you,
take the positions that are rightfully yours in the Ministry,
and outnumber us so many times over that you will be
unable to calculate just how vulnerable you are. Pureblood
births are decreasing, and some are even allowing the filth
to sully their blood. If nothing is done, it will only be a few
generations that your own lines will either cease to exist or
will be headed by mudbloods."
"Over my dead body!" Nott growled.
"That is the spirit, Nott," Voldemort responded. "It is up to
us to ensure that doesn't happen. It is time to trim the fat,
to thin the herd of those that would threaten our way of
life. What say you? Are you willing to allow this downfall
to continue, or do you wish to be among those that stands
up and be counted, those that your own descendants will
remember for stepping up when it was needed? Or will you
cower in your estates and watch as the world around you
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changes, as your names come to mean nothing until they
are nothing but a footnote in the annals of history?"
Silence met his words, and the Dark Lord stood tall.
"The time for action is coming," he said passionately.
"Follow me and I will ensure that our traditions are upheld,
that your lines will continue for generations to come. Fear
not our enemies, for I promise they wall fall when faced
with our superiority. So, what say you, Nott?"
The man stood and nodded.
"I'm with you," he declared.
"Lestrange?"
"Me too."
"Mulciber? Rosier?"
Both men nodded.
"Where do we begin?" Nott asked.
"My work began decades ago," Voldemort replied.
"Patience is the key to success, and success will come for us,
I give you my word. For now, prepare yourselves. The day
will come sooner than you think that I will call upon you."
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With that, the Dark Lord swept from the room and
grinned to himself.
The purebloods were a prideful bunch and easily
manipulated, but they would serve their purpose and bring
others into the fold.
Soon, wizarding Britain would experience a hell that their
worst nightmares could not even conjure.
A curtain of fear would soon close around them, and the
country would collapse in the darkness that the Dark Lord
would bring.
(Break)
"I don't know what you hope to achieve by speaking to an
elf, Baron Evans," Edwin Daniels, the Head of the
Department for Control of Magical Creatures sighed as he
led Harry towards the cage the creature was being kept in.
"Many things can be achieved," Harry said dismissively,
frowning as he spotted Hokey curled up in the far corner,
trembling. "Hokey?" he asked gently.
The elf looked up at him in fear, her eyes glassy as she
continued to shake.
"Let me speak to her alone," he requested.
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Daniels nodded.
"Crouch won't like it."
"Crouch can kiss my arse," Harry bit back. "Has a
Legilimens been to see her?"
Daniels shook his head.
"Barty would never allow it. The Mind Arts are Dark Arts
as far as he is concerned."
"The man is an idiot," Harry huffed.
Daniels snorted and left him alone with Hokey who stared
at him.
Harry opened the cage with a tap of his wand and entered.
Kneeling next to the elf, he offered her a reassuring smile.
"Hokey, I'm trying to figure out what happened to
Hepzibah Smith."
"Hokey Killed her!" the elf sobbed.
Harry shushed the creature and placed a hand over hers to
prevent her from hitting herself.
"I don't believe that," Harry said calmly. "I think someone
else did it and made you believe you did. Will you let me
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help you?"
The elf choked and continued to cry, so Harry gave her
some time to calm herself.
When she had managed to regain some composure, Harry
sat.
"Let me help you," he pressed gently. "I know you didn't
harm your mistress."
"Hokey didn't?" the elf asked hopefully.
"No, you didn't," Harry said a little more firmly. "I believe a
very nasty man killed Miss Smith and has tricked you."
"A nasty man?" Hokey whispered.
Harry nodded.
"Do you know a man named Tom Riddle?"
The elf 's eyes widened in fear once more and she began to
struggle.
Harry held onto her tightly.
"Hokey, I need you to look at me," he instructed. "I can
help you, but I need you to let me."
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It took a few moments for her to relent, and she sobbed,
her eyes pleading with him to do so.
"I'm going to take a look in your mind," he explained.
"Please don't fight, I imagine it will be unpleasant for us
both."
Hokey eyed him questioningly, and eventually nodded.
With little more than a whisper, Harry slipped into the
elf 's consciousness, the magic of the creature overwhelming
his own senses.
It took a minute or so to become accustomed to the foreign
mind, but when he felt settled, Harry began to probe gently
through her memories until he reached the ones pertaining
to a young Voldemort, though one had been locked away,
so deeply that Hokey would not be able to find without
assistance.
Harry wondered why Tom hadn't simply removed the
memory and realised that doing so would have only raised
suspicion.
Using Hokey as his scapegoat, none would question what
had happened, but Tom evidently had no knowledge on
elves and the bond they shared with their master.
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Hokey could never have harmed Hepzibah, though how
Crouch hadn't come to the same conclusion was baffling to
Harry.
Carefully, he unlocked the memory and retreated from the
elf 's mind as a plethora of emotions erupted from within
her.
Hokey was wailing in despair when Harry managed to
gather himself, and though he wished to help her, the elf
needed to grieve and come to terms with what had really
happened.
"He is a bad man!" she whimpered.
Harry nodded his agreement, his jaw clenching as an
unwelcome voice intruded upon them.
"What the hell is going on here?" Crouch demanded to
know.
Daniels, who had arrived with him offered Harry an
apologetic look.
"I'm solving your case for you," Harry returned evenly.
"Hokey is innocent, something you would have figured out
for yourself if you weren't such a moron."
Crouch purpled with rage, but as Harry stood and met his
gaze, he flinched, remembering just who it was before him.
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"You have no right to interfere," Crouch growled.
"And you have a responsibility to ensure that justice is
upheld," Harry returned heatedly. "Your view on magic has
failed Hokey, and because of that, Hepzibah Smith's killer
has been allowed to roam free."
"The elf killed her!" Crouch snapped. "She admitted it."
"Because she was tricked into doing so," Harry growled
irritably. "You own an elf, don't you?"
Crouch nodded, his moustache twitching in irritation.
"Would yours ever harm you?"
"Absolutely not!" Crouch denied. "Winky has been
perfectly trained."
"As Hokey has been," Harry pointed out. "Look at how
distraught she is at the death of her mistress. Hokey
couldn't have harmed her even if she wished to, just as your
own elf couldn't harm you. One set of rules doesn't apply to
you and yours, Crouch."
The man released a deep breath, his cheeks reddening.
"So, you know who killed her?"
Harry nodded.
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"His name is Tom Riddle; you may be familiar."
Crouch frowned thoughtfully.
"The kid that killed Dippet?"
"No longer a child," Harry pointed out. "He made the
acquaintance of Miss Smith many years ago, and she
showed him the artefacts that are missing."
Hokey nodded along, her ears flapping almost comically.
"He was a bad boy!"
Crouch deflated.
"Riddle has been wanted for decades," he sighed. "How can
we find him after all this time?"
"You won't," Harry answered simply, "but he will find us
when he is ready."
Crouch frowned confusedly, but Harry cut him off before
he could question him further.
"What will happen to Hokey?"
Crouch shrugged.
"The Department will decide, I suppose," he declared,
looking towards Daniels who nodded.
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"We will look to find her another home. For now, she will
be kept here."
Harry shook his head.
"I will take her," he decided. "I have one elf, and a large
house. If she wishes to come, she will have lots of work and
be kept safe. Would you like that Hokey?"
"Mistress Smith…" she whimpered.
"Is not here, but she would want you to be taken care of,"
Harry explained gently. "From what I saw, she loved you,
Hokey, and would not wish for you to punish yourself for
the actions of someone else. Come with me and I promise
that Tom Riddle will pay for what he has done to you and
Mistress Smith."
Hokey looked unsure, so Harry decided to compromise.
"If you don't wish to stay with me and my family forever,
you don't have to, but at least come until you feel better and
are ready to serve someone else. It is better than being kept
in a cage here."
Hokey looked around the cage and shivered.
"Hokey will come," she agreed.
"Problem solved," Daniels chuckled.
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Crouch merely muttered under his breath and left the room
and Harry eyed the man in irritation.
He was a competent head of department for the most part,
but he was still a stubborn fool who wouldn't change his
ways.
"Come on, Hokey," Harry urged offering his hand. "Shall
we find somewhere for you to get some rest?"
The elf nodded gratefully, tentatively taking the proffered
limb, and Harry shot Daniels an appreciative nod before he
apparated himself and Hokey away.
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Comments (14)
Thank you very much for another fantastic chapter
Please write the next chapter already. Thank you very
much. I really appreciated it and liked it a lot.
I'm glad that Harry saved Hokey, but of course theirs the
ever present threat that Riddle or his minions will have
Harry's children killed.
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AvidReader2425 2 weeks ago · 0 Likes
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Did Crouch not authorize the use of the unforgivable
curses in canon? He's not dark magic opposed. It's kind of
a dumb plot point to extend his supposed dark magic
aversion to the mind arts too, especially as what we know of
him canonically is that he's incredibly precise and knows
like 14 languages (amongst plenty of unlikable qualities
too, no doubt) and would more than likely have some
familiarity if not competence with the mind arts to assist in
learning all that those languages.
In canon Crouch only authorized the curses after many
magicals died because of the Death Eater.
Currently no one knows about the new movement. The
term Death Eater does not even exists. The question is
even if this will exists.
He decided for his own new name Voldemort wich isn't
public at the moment.
I could imagine that some see a difference between being
able to organize ones mind and to look into the mind of
others. Mostly against their will.
Not real 3 weeks ago · 0 Likes
Chiru 3 weeks ago · 0 Likes
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Like everything there is a fine line and for Crouch ... He
belongs to a group who could easily be manipulated by
their want for power. Would it not be his own morales he
would be also part of Toms Circle ... his son did hate him
mostly because he was a workaholic and didn't seem to care
for his family. Work before anything, maybe because he
wanted to climb more ladders.
I really hope their would be a scene where Tom would look
proud seeing the people who followed him (I'm sure their
would no more than a hundred) and then their would be
Harry's army almost a thousand (really with the people he
had helped, the countries he had protected and especially
the countries that he saved from severe punishment.). Tom
would be bite his own tongue seeing the people behind
Harry. I really hoped their would be scene where the people
that Harry helped would come to his aids especially from
America, Russia, and France. Especially with his own band
of men that were with him during the war. What a
magnificent sight would that be.
kair0001 3 weeks ago · 0 Likes
Armiture 3 weeks ago · 0 Likes
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The adoption at the end was unexpected but now I'm
wondering if Harry will be performing the same research
that his Dumbledore performed but faster and without
malingering on the retrieval or keeping everything so secret
that the information is useless. Bouncing ideas off of Alt-
Dumbledore and a select few others will likely be very
helpful too.
The DMLE should announce that Tom Riddle is wanted
for the murder of a pureblood, that will certainly not help
his reputation as the upholder of pureblood rights. It's also
going to be interesting to see how easily he recruits given
people know that Harry won't take prisoners or let enemies
live, as opposed to Dumbledore's second chances mantra.
Gotta say I didn't expect harry to adopt hokey but I
probably should have. It's sweet
Things are heating up! Looking forward to see Tom meet
his due!
Steve 3 weeks ago · 0 Likes
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Great chapter!
Great chapter.
I'm glad Harry sees the risk to his children and takes steps.
It's not paranoia when they really are out to get you.
There are fates worse then death, if Harry wastes his time
getting horcruxes instead of capturing riddle and invading
his mind until he is a drooling mess on the then is is an
idiot.
Harry's gonna have to find these Horcruxes before he can
kill Tom, without alerting him that he knows, which
currently is more intriguing than the inevitable fight
between them.
Steve Moss 3 weeks ago · 1 Like
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When the Roses Bloom
When the Roses Bloom
I truly don't think so. Or better I always thought the
Horcrux as useless items.
Voldemort placed later on his Horcrux in the care of some
inner circle Death Eater but he never trusted them enough
to tell them what they are.
The DE only knew it was important for him, and should
be kept save and hidden.
If it weren't for the search of Dark Objects Lucius would
never put it away or even anywhere close to Hogwarts as
long as his son goes to school there.
In my opinion they where over rated dust catcher. Else the
Lestranges if not Malfoy would have used the cup rather
than to go the Longbottoms.
So even if he would kill the person Voldemort he won't be
able to come back if he doesn't tell anyone what to do with
his Horcrux.
He may not die but he also won't be alive. And later on
Harry qould still have time to collect them.
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Author/Site Owner: Lee : TheBlack'sResurgence
Email: (For all enquiries)
Again - A New Beginning
Again - Two in One
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