Oct 13

When the

Roses Bloom

Again - Closing

the Net The smouldering remains of the morning edition of The Daily

Prophet had been cast aside in Lord Voldemort's rage, the

headlines only corroborating what his Death Eaters had

reported to him the previous evening.

Men in white cloaks and black masks, not dissimilar to the garb

of his own followers, had disrupted their attack in large

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numbers.

The most concerning part of all of it, however, wasn't the

numbers but the symbol they had aligned under.

The Serpent.

The Dark Lord had spent most of his school years seeing that

symbol, hearing of the bravery and brilliance of The Serpent

who had turned out to be none other than Harry Evans, the

man who had stolen his family magic, who had attempted to

kill the boy Voldemort had been.

Evans was behind this group, but what angered the Dark Lord

most was that he was undoubtedly being mocked.

The robes, the symbol, all of it.

"They hide like cowards," Voldemort snorted. "They dare not

show their faces because they know that we will come for

them."

"Don't we hide our face for the same reason, my lord?" Goyle

questioned.

For an unusually dim-witted man, the question was rather apt,

but the Dark Lord shook his head as he smiled.

"No, we hide who we are to instil fear," he explained, the same

way he would to a child. "We conceal our identities so none

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know who their enemies might be. Imagine not knowing if your

own neighbour, your brother, or even your father counts

themselves among us."

The assembled Death Eaters nodded.

"What about Crabbe?" Abraxus Malfoy enquired.

Voldemort hummed.

"What would you suggest?" he asked the cunning man.

"We could attempt to have him released," Abraxus mused

aloud. "Perhaps we can ensure on a healer assessment. I could

arrange for him to be quite out of his mind before his trial."

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully.

"Will it work?"

"Indeed, my lord," Malfoy replied with a bow. "If his sanity is

brought into question, any testimony he gives will be

dismissed."

"Then I will leave it up to your discretion, Abraxus," Voldemort

decided as he took a seat, sweeping the ash that had been the

newspaper to the ground. "I would see Amycus in a similar

state."

Abraxus nodded.

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"How is recruitment going?" Voldemort pressed.

"Going well, my lord," Walden Macnair answered quietly. "In

the past month, we have added another two hundred men and

women to the cause. They are ready and waiting for you to call

upon them."

"Then I shall do so. We will need them," Voldemort returned.

"Is something bothering you, Walden?"

Macnair released a deep breath.

"Evans," he sighed.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Not Harry, but Jack, his son."

"What about him?"

Walden looked towards Rosier and Avery before speaking once

more.

"Jack is our friend, my lord," he answered. "He was at Hogwarts

with us, a Slytherin…"

"Who has chosen to fight against us!" the Dark Lord snapped.

"Our friends are the ones who stand with us, Walden, not those

that oppose us."

Walden nodded reluctantly.

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"Of course, my lord," he said with a bow.

"Now, I would urge you all to be careful. With Evans and his

group active, we must tread carefully."

"We are going to lay low?" Avery asked almost hopefully.

Voldemort shook his head.

"No, we will become more active, but in smaller groups," he

explained. "We will strike and retreat before Evans and his

companions can react. Wizarding Britain will soon see that any

resistance is futile and more will fall behind us."

The Death Eaters murmured amongst themselves, nodding

approvingly.

"Rest my friends," the Dark Lord urge. "Our work is only just

beginning. Soon, they will realise that we cannot be defeated,

that we are the superior wizards."

The men cheered and Voldemort smirked to himself

victoriously.

He had expected there to be more complaining, more questions,

but neither had come.

The Death Eaters were in this just as deeply as he was now, and

they couldn't continue to question or doubt him, not if they

wished to experience the success they sought.

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Under Lord Voldemort, they would be successful, of that he

had no doubt.

(Break)

It was inevitable that a meeting of the Wizengamot would be

called after Harry and the other veteran's escapades the night

before, but he had not expected it to come so soon.

Usually, the Ministry dithered on such matters, but Jenkins was

seemingly keen to discuss what had occurred.

Entering the chamber, Harry was treated to the sight of the two

largest groups arguing and hurling insults at one another.

Rolling his eyes at an amused yet concerned Lord Greengrass

who rarely took sides, he made his way to his own seat and

waited for the proceedings to begin.

Jenkins crashed her gavel against the podium several times

before the posturing lords and ladies fell silent, and she offered

both sides a stern glare before speaking.

"I do not know what this country is coming to, but I will not

have what is happening devolve into a civil war either in here or

on the streets of Britain," she began firmly. "This afternoon, I

will be meeting with the Prime Minister to explain why twenty-

eight muggles were murdered in Bristol, and our own

Department of Magical Law Enforcement now have six people

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in custody to deal with, a dead auror, and four more dead who

were found dressed in black cloaks and masks."

The Minister was red in the face by the time she finished

speaking and breathing heavily.

Her job was not an enviable one at the best of times, but now, it

was downright awful, though Harry found it difficult to

sympathise with the woman.

Had she taken a strong stance from the start, the incident the

night before may not have happened.

He snorted at the thought.

It would have happened regardless.

Voldemort and his followers needed to be dealt with quickly

and with the same level of violence they exhibited.

"Baron Evans, could you kindly explain the appearance of your

mark after the group of vigilantes arrived?"

Harry nodded as he stood.

"I must admit, I was surprised to see it," he answered. "I have

not used the mark in almost three decades."

"LIES!" Lestrange roared.

Harry sobered when he heard the man's tone.

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"I would keep your mouth shut if I were you, Lestrange, or I

may well just see that my symbol finds its way hanging over

your house."

Lestrange purpled with rage but was placated by Abraxus

Malfoy who whispered something in his ear.

"I do not take kindly to accusations without evidence," Harry

continued, his gaze not leaving Lestranges. "Any idiot could

have worked out how to create it. As for me, I was in bed when

my son informed me that he had been ambushed by a shower of

bastards whilst he was carrying out his duty as an auror. Now, I

understand that his job is quite risky at times, but an attempt to

murder him in cold blood is something I cannot let slide. I can

assure you that I will be personally looking into the matter, and

when I find those responsible, I will ensure they never raise a

wand to anyone else again."

"Baron Evans," Minister Jenkins warned.

Harry slammed his hand on the table in front of him as he

turned his gaze on the woman.

"This is now a family matter, Minister," he bit back. "As a

Baron, I have the same right as any other in this room to deal

with it as I see fit. Besides, I'm sure Mr Crouch and the rest of

the department will be too busy to give it their full attention."

"Quite right," Crouch murmured.

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Jenkins and many others were staring at Harry worriedly.

The thought of him coming for them was rather unsettling,

exactly the effect he wished to have on Voldemort's supporters.

After a moment, Jenkins cleared her throat.

"So, you weren't there?" she asked.

Harry offered the woman a polite smile as he shook his head.

"I attended the scene after the incident, something Mr Crouch

can attest to. I arrived wearing my pyjamas. They were blue

with some rather nice stars and moons embroidery. I believe my

wife bought them for Christmas."

Many of the lords chuckled at the description and Jenkins

sighed irritably.

"Is this true, Barty?"

"It is," Crouch confirmed. "The pyjamas were blue."

"Not the pyjamas," Jenkins huffed, and Harry was certain he

saw Crouch's moustache twitch in amusement. "Did Baron

Evans arrive after the incident?"

"He did," Crouch answered with certainty. "He was rather

displeased by the incident and made some rather colourful

promises."

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"Promises?"

Crouch nodded as he consulted his notes.

"He said that when he found out who was responsible for the

attempt on his son, he would boil them within their own skin

and feed the soup to a pack of Thestrals. He was quite upset."

Harry nodded his agreement with the statement as Jenkins

shook her head in frustration.

"I do not wish for there to be any more incidents like the one

we saw last night," she declared.

"And do you have a suggestion to prevent them, Minister?"

Charlus broke in. "These groups have both proven they are

willing to kill, and the aurors are unable to intervene similarly.

Is it not too dangerous to expect them to?"

"It is," Crouch agreed. "Unfortunately, Minister, we are quite

powerless to stop them with the level of violence they have

exhibited. I am not willing to risk the lives of my men and

women when they are unable to defend themselves aptly."

"So, we just allow these skirmishes to continue?"

Crouch released a deep sigh.

"I do not believe we have any other choice unless either side can

be negotiated with," he answered. "At this time, it is not

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possible. We do not have any means to contact who is leading

either of the groups. We do have prisoners in custody that I will

be interviewing personally. Depending on our findings, I would

hope to have them on trial within the week."

Jenkins nodded, though she was clearly displeased by how the

meeting was being concluded.

A diplomatic approach, even with a warning, was going to

achieve nothing here, and as the lords and ladies were dismissed

all within the room knew the fighting would continue in

earnest.

It wouldn't stop until Voldemort was dead, something that

Harry would rather see to sooner than later.

The Dark Lord would need to be lured out, forced to leave the

safety of the shadows he so loved to lurk within.

(Break)

"What's going on?" Jack asked as a frustrated Reg left the

interview room.

He had been chosen to assist Crouch with interviewing the

prisoners, but after only a few moments of commencing them, a

squad of healers had arrived.

"Someone got to them," Reg sighed. "They are incoherent, and

their memories have been wiped. We will get nothing from any

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of them."

"Voldemort," Jack muttered irritably.

Reg nodded as he took a seat.

"He wasn't taking any chances," he murmured. "Your father

won't like this."

Jack hummed his agreement.

His father would be displeased, and just when Jack thought that

the Ministry had something they could work with, it had been

snatched away from them.

"What did the healers say?"

"Not much," Reg replied with a shake of his head. "Only that

Carrow was found in a similar state."

"Isn't he being guarded?"

"The guard conveniently nodded off," Reg snorted. "I don't like

it. The whole thing stinks of corruption. I mean, we have no

idea who is following him. Anyone in this office could be on his

side."

"They could," Jack observed. "We need to be careful, Reg."

"Not me," the man declared as he stood and removed a roll of

parchment from within his robes. "I'm not taking any chances. I

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was supposed to retire ten years ago. I'd rather fight this head

on, with men that I trust."

"You're leaving?" Jack asked sadly.

Reg nodded and offered him a smile.

"I'm too old for the job now. I've been fighting for more than

three decades. I'll keep fighting him, but on my own terms."

Jack grabbed the man's forearm as he turned away.

"You were with my dad," he whispered.

"I will neither confirm nor deny it," Reg replied with a wink.

"Just know that I may not be here anymore, but I will be there

when I'm needed, just as I was during the Grindelwald years."

Jack released a sigh as he pulled the man into a hug.

Reg didn't need to confirm it, he wouldn't be anywhere but by

his father's side.

"So will I," he assured him before he headed towards the

fireplace and flooed to his parent's home.

Both would have finished for the day by now, and as he thought

he would, he found them sitting at the kitchen table with Rosa.

"Jack!" his mother greeted him happily, standing to wrap her

arms around him. "What's wrong?"

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Jack's gaze was fixed on his father who returned it curiously.

"I want in," he said simply. "Whatever this group is that is

fighting him, I want to be a part of it."

"You're in," his father answered without hesitation.

Jack was taken aback but accepted the coin his father pressed

into his hand.

"Just like that?"

His father nodded.

"I would be a hypocrite if I tried to keep you out of the

fighting," he explained. "By the time I was your age, I'd fought

on the continent and killed Grindelwald. This way, you fall

under my command, but I will say this only once. You will do as

I say as though you were one of the others. Understood?"

Jack nodded as he turned towards his mother.

The woman was not happy about his decision, but she made no

attempt to dissuade him from it.

He was very much his father's son, and Jack would not sit idly

by whilst those he cared about fought against something that

threatened them all.

"So, what happens now?"

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His father looked at him seriously for a moment before

answering.

"Now, you must be initiated," he informed him. "You must first

learn the secret handshake."

"Secret handshake?"

"We will get to that in a minute," his father said dismissively. "I

need you to get me a slice of that treacle tart. It's quite

important for the initiation," he added, pointing to the cooling

dessert on the windowsill.

Jack frowned in confusion, but did as he was bid, cutting his

father a generous portion, and handing it to the man who

nodded satisfactorily before taking a bite.

"Good," he declared.

"What was the point in that?" Jack asked.

"I wanted some treacle tart," his father answered with a grin.

Jack rolled his eyes at the man whilst his mother and sister

laughed.

"What about the secret handshake?"

At his question, his father lost his composure and joined in with

the others.

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"Bloody hell, this isn't the scouts," he huffed amusedly. "There

is no handshake. I just wanted some tart."

Jack shook his head irritably.

He should have expected something like this.

"Oh, my poor boy," his mother simpered, cupping his cheek.

"Come on, have some dinner with us."

Jack took a seat, aiming a kick at his older sister who continued

to mock him.

"Mum, tell him!" Rosa complained.

"You're a grown woman, Rosa, deal with your own problems,"

Minerva replied as she added some food to a plate for Jack who

stuck his tongue out at his sister.

"Ow!" he grumbled as Rosa's foot collided with his shin.

"That's what you get."

Jack cursed under his breath.

Really, he should be grateful that the others weren't here. He

wouldn't get any respite if they were.

Happily, he tucked into the meal before explaining what had

happened to the prisoners to his father who did not seem to be

surprised.

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"I should have expected it," he muttered. "Not that it really

matters. We'll get more of them soon enough."

Jack nodded knowing that he had done the right thing.

As much as he loved being an auror, he didn't like feeling

helpless, especially when faced with such a prevalent threat.

Were it not for his father's actions the previous evening, he

would likely have been killed, and Jack didn't plan on dying

whilst on duty, not when he had yet to experience the better

things life had to offer.

Shooting a glance between his parents, he knew what it was he

wanted.

He'd dedicated his life to being an auror, and neglected other

things, but he realised in this moment that he wanted more.

He wanted what his parents had, to find someone to share his

life with, to finally settle and have a family of his own.

(Break)

Albus had not truly been surprised that an offensive against

Tom had been mounted, but the speed of which it came had

caught him off guard. Since the attack in Bristol, he had been

mulling the situation over, and though none had spoken such

words, it was clear to him that Britain now found itself

embroiled in a civil war.

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The headmaster had always known that Harry would seek Tom

out but given the circumstances and the nature of the boy's

departure from the castle almost three decades ago, the former

had been unsuccessful thus far.

Still, with Tom back in Britain, that confrontation was

inevitable.

Albus deflated at the thought.

Harry had warned him and Armando when he'd arrived of what

would come, but Albus had been so caught up in what Gellert

was doing that he had not given his words much thought.

Now, what Harry had spoken of was playing out in front of his

eyes, and Albus feared it would only worsen.

Since the incident at the Quidditch stadium, he had been

making discreet enquiries, reaching out to those he knew that

he could rely on to begin bringing about Tom's downfall, but it

seemed that Harry was unwilling to adopt such tactics.

As ever, Harry was proving to be as, if not more, ruthless than

the enemy he faced, yet Albus still wished to discuss it with the

man.

He couldn't see himself confronting Tom, not that Harry would

allow it, but he wished to be of assistance, especially since Harry

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had shouldered the burden of the previous war, something

Albus would always be grateful of.

"Come in," he called when the expected knock sounded at the

door.

"You wanted to see me, Albus?" Harry questioned.

"I did," the headmaster confirmed. "Please, take a seat."

Harry did so, and Albus eyed the man closely.

He had long had his suspicions of the magic of the ritual

Nicholas had conducted close to four decades ago.

Harry appeared to have barely aged ten years since he had first

met him as a boy.

Quite the curious feat indeed.

"I wished to discuss this with you," Albus explained, sliding the

edition of The Daily Prophet towards him that depicted the

symbol of The Serpent over the city of Bristol.

"You want to know if I am behind it."

Albus chuckled as he shook his head.

"I do not think we need to waste time debating that. I vividly

remember one of the very first conversations we had when you

arrived. I am not making accusations, Harry, but I am not

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foolish or naïve enough to believe anyone else behind it. I am

not the Ministry."

Harry snorted.

"Fine, I am behind it," he admitted unashamedly.

Albus leaned forward in his chair and rested his chin on his

steepled fingers.

"It is not my place to deter you from what action you see fit.

You have proven to be quite the master of warfare, after all.

What I wish to do is offer my assistance. I have been speaking

with people I trust and am putting a group together in aide of

seeing an end to Tom's efforts."

"An order of sorts?" Harry asked, a fond smile tugging at his

lips.

Albus frowned thoughtfully.

"I suppose that would be an apt description."

Harry chuckled amusedly.

"The Order of the Phoenix."

"Excuse me?" Albus probed confusedly.

"It was the name of the order you put together where I came

from," Harry explained. "Sorry, Albus, but they were not so

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effective."

"I see," Albus murmured unhappily.

"Not at the fighting side of things at least," Harry continued. "I

can see that you want to help, and I appreciate it, but you

should stay away from the fighting. Most of the order members

were killed for intervening, and I do not wish for that to happen

again. I have fighting men, but I could use your assistance with

something else, something equally as important."

"Of course," Albus offered with a bow. "I will help in any way I

can."

"Horcruxes. I need you to find out all you can about them. Tom

has created at least three so far, but I wouldn't put it past him to

create more. Find out what you can, and where he may have

hidden them."

"Three?" Albus asked worriedly.

Harry nodded.

"The first I believe is a diary he would have had when he was

here. I destroyed it when I was twelve, but I didn't know what it

was at the time."

"Destroyed it?"

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"With a basilisk fang," Harry explained. "It is one of the few

substances that can do so."

"Indeed," Albus agreed. "The two others?"

"The murder of Hepzibah Smith. She had two important

artefacts belonging to the founders that I have no doubt Tom

stole when he framed Hokey for the murder."

"Hufflepuff 's cup," Albus murmured. "It was known to be in

the Smith family."

"And a locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin that she

purchased from Borgin and Burke's," Harry elaborated. "Mr

Burke came into possession of it via Tom's mother."

"And he would have wanted it back," Albus added thoughtfully.

"I would suggest that it is a distinct possibility that Tom would

have sought out other items belonging to the founders."

"There are others?" Harry asked.

Albus nodded.

"None of which have been seen for hundreds of years, some not

since the founders themselves were alive."

"What items?"

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"Well, we have the Sorting Hat, of course," Albus explained. "It

belonged to Gryffindor. Tom would not have been able to

corrupt that."

"No, he wouldn't have," Harry agreed as he eyed the unmoving

hat.

"There is Gryffindor's sword," Albus continued. "It is said to

have been created by the goblins and gifted to him. It has never

been found, however, and most believe it never truly exists."

"It exists," Harry countered with a knowing grin. "It came into

my possession when I needed it most. It is safe from Tom, I am

certain of that."

"Truly, you found it?" Albus asked, surprised by the revelation.

"The sword found its way to me," Harry explained cryptically.

"I will say no more on the matter."

Albus nodded his understanding as he pondered any other

items he knew of.

"There was a ring that belonged to Salazar Slytherin. It is quite

possible Tom obtained it from the Gaunt family," he said

worriedly.

Harry shook his head as he removed a chain wrapped around

his neck.

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"I got to it before him."

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully as he eyed the ring,

wondering why Harry had seen fit to take it.

Before he could get a good look at it, however, it has hidden

within the man's robes once more.

"Ravenclaw's diadem," Albus remembered, "but that too has not

been seen since Rowena herself roamed the castle. I don't

suppose you can account for its whereabouts?"

Harry shook his head, a deep frown marring his features.

"What is a diadem?"

"A tiara," Albus explained.

"Like the one the statue wears in the Ravenclaw common

room?"

Albus nodded.

"I wouldn't put it past him to look for it, but where would you

even begin finding something lost for almost a thousand years?"

Harry mused aloud.

Albus hummed.

"I do not know," he murmured. "The Grey Lady may have

some knowledge. She is Rowena's daughter, after all."

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"Her daughter?" Harry asked, evidently not having known that.

"It is not so common knowledge," Albus explained, "but

wouldn't be so difficult to discover."

"Who would know it?"

"Most of the more seasoned professors," Albus answered, and

Harry released a deep breath.

"Slughorn."

"Horace?"

"You and Minerva have both mentioned that he and Tom were

close. Where else would he go to get information? Horace may

have just mentioned something like that in passing."

"That is quite concerning," Albus sighed. "I will talk with him

and see what he knows."

"You should," Harry agreed as he stood. "Anything you can

discover about the horcruxes will be most useful, Albus. If you

focus on that, I will focus on Tom."

The headmaster nodded, already planning on where he could

begin to gather any relevant information about Tom.

Horace would be the best place to start and attempting to trace

his movements when he fled from Britain, though that would

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be a difficult task.

Perhaps he should seek out Mrs Cole from the orphanage?

She did know him well enough when he was a boy.

"I will look into it as a priority," he assured Harry.

The man nodded gratefully.

"Then let us hope we are both successful in our endeavours

sooner rather than later."

Albus stood and offered the man his hand.

It was accepted immediately with a firm group, and Albus

chuckled as he shook his head.

"For a man past fifty, Harry, I must say, you are looking very

well indeed."

"Surprising with how stressful my life has been," the man

snorted.

Albus nodded as he hummed, getting a closer look at him in

the light.

"Barely a wrinkle," he commented. "Have you considered that

the ritual Nicholas completed has had an unintended, long-

term effect?"

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"No," Harry murmured. "I've not thought about it."

"I think you will find that it has," Albus mused aloud. "Both he

and Perenelle used their own blood which contained…"

"The elixir of life," Harry whispered. "What does it mean?"

"I cannot be certain, my boy, but I think that you are perhaps

aging considerably slower than is natural. Even for a wizard,

you are retaining your youth remarkably well, as is Minerva

come to think of it."

"How?"

Albus pondered the question before nodding.

"I suppose that the elixir has become a part of you, something

you have passed on to your children, likely in a more diluted

way."

"What does that have to do with Minerva?"

"She carried your children, Harry, five of them in all. That

magic could have easily spread to her during her pregnancy.

Alchemy is usually a very precise branch, but there are factors

that, if not accounted for, can have quite the profound outcome.

The act of becoming pregnant is something of a ritual in itself. I

would hazard a guess that the effects of the ritual you

underwent, passed on to Minerva."

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Harry frowned for several moments whilst he absorbed Albus's

deduction.

"Bloody Nicholas," he huffed. "The bastard definitely got the

last laugh, didn't he?"

"He always did," Albus sighed. "Whether or not he knew this

was a possibility is something that will remain a mystery to us."

"But it is likely, isn't it?" harry asked pointedly.

"I would certainly say it is," Albus agreed. "Nicholas was the

most brilliant man I knew, and he would have considered the

possibility it would affect your lifespan. I do not think, however,

that he would have looked beyond that, and that Minerva, and

whatever effect is has had on your children, was not something

that crossed his mind."

Harry could only shake his head.

"I bet he's laughing his arse off right now."

"Oh, this would be the ultimate source of amusement for him,"

Albus returned, unable to hide his grin despite Harry scowling

irritably.

(Break)

Lily hadn't enjoyed her flying lessons thus far. It had been one

of the skills she had been looking forward to learning, but it had

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proven to be much more difficult than she could have imagined.

There were those among the class like James Potter and Sirius

Black who were already brilliant at it, but not Lily. She wasn't

terrible, and there were those that couldn't even get the broom

off the ground without injuring themselves, but she was far

from being the best.

Maybe Miss Evans would be able to help her?

"Okay, class, this is my first-time teaching anyone to fly, so why

don't we begin by you showing me what you can do, and I will

offer some pointers?"

Lily tentatively called her broom into her hand before mounting

it.

She took off shakily, and flew a few feet above the ground, not

daring to go as high as James Potter, let alone attempt any of

the dangerous tricks he did.

Ignoring the snickers of the Slytherin students, Lily continued,

slowly becoming used to the odd sensation of flying.

"You need to be confident, Lily," Rosa called encouragingly. "If

your broom senses fear, it will not react well to you. Calm

yourself, and it will come much easier."

Lily nodded and released a deep breath.

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"Calm," she whispered to herself.

After a few more minutes of manoeuvring the broom around,

she finally felt as though she had more control over it.

"Good," Rosa praised. "When you're ready, go a little higher."

Once more, Lily nodded and braced herself before urging the

broom upwards and levelling it up when she was almost ten feet

from the ground.

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Rosa asked from next to

her. "Now, gently lean the nose forward and take it back down."

Lily followed the instructions and breathed a sigh of relief as

she touched down where Rosa joined her.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Lily shook her head.

"I'm just not a natural flyer."

"Not everyone is," Rosa pointed out, "but you can be

competent. It's different for me, and for James. I was flying

before I could walk, and he was taught by my father too."

"Is Professor Evans a good flyer?"

Rosa snorted amusedly.

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"If there wasn't a war he had to fight, he could have played

Quidditch for England."

"Really?"

Rosa nodded.

"My father is an excellent flyer and would be better than me if

he focused on it."

"Is he good at everything?" Lily asked with a frown.

Rosa giggled amusedly.

"Oh, he's terrible at potions," she informed her. "Slughorn takes

a lot of pleasure telling people that."

"I like potions," Lily declared. "I find it relaxing."

"I can't say that I was much better at it than my dad," Rosa

sighed. "I did well enough, but we can't be good at everything. I

did hear that you have impressed Professor Flitwick."

"Charms is my favourite," Lily replied, blushing slightly.

"It takes a skilled witch or wizard to master them. My father

taught it here years ago, before Professor Flitwick came along."

"He must be good at them?"

Rosa nodded.

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"He was able to cast a patronus at the age of thirteen, and he's

invented dozens of them. He's a brilliant man. I didn't realise

just how brilliant until I was older."

"Do you think he'd teach me some?"

"I'm sure he'd love to," Rosa replied with a smile.

Lily returned the gesture as Rosa checked her watch.

"Bugger, alright, that's it for today," she announced. "Please

return your brooms and head to your next lessons."

Most of the boys groaned, but Lily, despite spending time with

the woman she was coming to like very much, was glad for it.

She placed her broom with the others and turned to catch up

with Marlene but was faced by a worried looking Severus as she

did so.

"What's wrong, Sev?"

"She's Evans daughter," the boy whispered. "You must have

heard what he has done."

"What he's done?"

Severus sighed as he took her by the hand.

"You read about the first war, didn't you?"

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Lily nodded.

"Professor Evans defeated Grindelwald, and saved hundreds, if

not thousands of lives."

Severus nodded.

"He also killed hundreds, if not thousands of people," he

pointed out.

"Bad people," Lily countered.

Severus shook his head frustratedly.

"He's dangerous, Lily. You have seen the news recently; Evans is

the one leading the men in the white cloaks."

"Good!" Lily said firmly. "Those ones in the black cloaks want

me and other people like me dead."

"That's not true," Severus denied. "They just want to make sure

that pureblood traditions aren't ignored."

"By attacking innocent people? If you believe that, Sev, then

you are stupid."

Severus appeared to be hurt by her words, and Lily felt a stab of

guilt.

She didn't want to hurt his feelings.

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"Lucius thinks it will only get worse with Evans sticking his

nose in."

Lily nodded.

"It will, but at least someone is sticking up for me," Lily replied,

turning away from her friend.

Severus grabbed her by the wrist to stop her.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing, Snivellus? Let go of her!"

James demanded as he drew his wand.

Lily rolled her eyes at the boy, and Severus's lip curled in

distaste as removed his own.

"There will be no fighting!" Rosa said firmly as she stepped

between the two boys. "James, you know better than that. My

father would be furious if he saw you acting this way."

James had the decency to look abashed and placed his wand

back up his sleeve.

"If I see or hear of any more incidents like this, I will take a leaf

out of my father's book and have you all scrubbing toilets for a

week. Do I make myself clear?"

The boys nodded grumpily and withered under Rosa's glare.

"Good, now get to your next lesson!"

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Lily followed the others back towards the castle.

"Bloody hell, she's scary," Peter commented.

"You've got no idea mate," James replied. "She might be

teaching us to fly, but she's vicious with her wand. Harry made

sure she can look after herself, but it's Jack you've got to watch."

"Jack?" Remus asked.

James nodded.

"Her younger brother," he explained. "He's an auror, but he's

bloody scary. He showed me some of the spells Harry taught

him once. I wouldn't want them fired at me. Harry was really

angry when he found out."

"Are all the Evans mental?" Petr asked worriedly.

"They can all look after themselves, but it's definitely Harry you

don't want to get on the wrong side of. I saw him duelling my

father and Lord Black once. He wiped the floor with them."

"He did kill Grindelwald," Sirius pointed out.

Lily frowned at the thought.

Professor Evans was just so nice, and she couldn't imagine him

killing anyone, even if she had heard the stories about him.

"What's it like having him as a godfather?" she asked.

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James smiled brightly at the question.

"Harry is the best," he said simply. "He taught me to fly, and he

always comes to visit when I'm at home."

Lily nodded her understanding.

Professor Evans did seem like a doting man, and though

Severus didn't seem to like him much, Lily did.

Despite what anyone else said, she knew that he was a kind

man, and not the monster Severus or the other Slytherins made

him out to be.

(Break)

Albus had pondered how best to broach the topic of Tom

Riddle with Horace, something the man would undoubtedly

become defensive about. Horace was a sensitive man and did

not react rationally if he felt his back was against the wall.

Still, this was of the utmost importance, and the potions master

may just hold the key to Tom being defeated.

Bracing himself, Albus knocked on the office door.

It opened a moment later, and Horace was seemingly taken

aback by his presence.

"Albus, what can I do for you?" the man asked jovially enough.

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"There are things we must discuss in private, Horace," Albus

replied. "May I come in?"

"That serious is it?" Slughorn questioned nervously, stepping

aside to allow Albus into the room.

"I'm afraid so," the headmaster confirmed. "I will not insult

your intelligence with small talk. I am here to discuss Tom

Riddle."

Horace paled at the mention of the former student.

"Riddle?" he whispered, looking around the room as though the

Dark Lord himself would appear.

Albus nodded severely.

"I need to know if he ever asked you about horcruxes?"

Slughorn somehow paled even more, his eyes bulging in shock.

"Whyever would he do that?" he sputtered.

"Because you were his confidant in the castle, Horace," Albus

pointed out. "It would be you he came to for advice or

information."

Slughorn swallowed deeply as he shook his head.

"I d-don't remember. It was almost three decades ago, Albus."

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"Horace," Albus pressed. "If anyone were to ask you about

them, you would not forget. Let us not waste time on this

foolishness. I am not here to sully your reputation, nor will this

conversation see you in any trouble. I merely need the truth of

the matter."

Horace's lip began to tremble, and he wiped a layer of

perspiration that had formed from his brow.

It was quite the feat that he managed to pour himself a drink

with how nervous he had become, but after draining a glass of

mead, he nodded reluctantly.

"He asked me about them, among many other things," he said

in just above a whisper. "Albus, I didn't think he actually

would…"

The headmaster held up a hand to silence the man.

"What did he wish to know?"

Horace sagged defeatedly.

"He asked about how many of them someone could make," he

explained. "I told him that I didn't know, that making just one

was an awful idea let alone seven."

"Seven?" Dumbledore pressed urgently.

Horace nodded.

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"You do not think he would have done it?"

Albus tugged at his beard thoughtfully.

"I believe he intends to," he murmured. "The ritual to do so is

exceedingly dangerous and taxing. Had he made seven of them

already, he would not be so calculating. Horcruxes do not

simply take a fragment of a soul when created, they remove a

part of what makes that person who they are. I believe he has

made more than one, but not seven. Not yet, at least."

"Dear me," Horace muttered. "Can he be defeated?"

A slight smile tugged at Albus's lips as he nodded.

"Of course," he replied with a bow.

"Evans?"

"Who else?"

Horace released a deep breath.

"The boy played me like a fool, Albus," he sighed. "I tried to see

the best in him, I really did."

"I know, old friend," Albus comforted. "Some people just

cannot be helped, Horace."

With that, Albus walked back towards the door, pausing as he

reached it.

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Comments (10)

"Did you happen to mention that the Grey Lady is Rowena's

daughter to Tom?"

There was a pause whilst Horace seemed to ponder the

question.

"I believe I did," he answered. "He asked many questions about

the castle, and I told him all I could."

Albus had already suspected as much.

Tom's knowledge of the school became so in depth that he was

able to navigate the halls without being detected.

He would need to ensure that the castle was secure enough to

keep him out.

That would be a discussion to have with Harry.

Now, however, there was another conversation to be had, this

one with a ghost that too had likely been manipulated by the

budding Dark Lord.

Newest First

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Nice chapter. Nice POV on the beginnings of the James/Snape

feud. Harry hazing Jack was a nice touch.

Great follow-up and pay-off chapter with new moments for

characters.

Please write the next chapter already. Thank you very much. I

really appreciated it and liked it a lot. I am sorry if I am being

rude or annoying you with my reviews, I don't mean to be rude

or annoy you with my reviews; I just really enjoy your story a

lot.

Justin Justin Justin...

Do we have to read your comment every single week asking for

Preview Post Comment…

Steve Moss A week ago · 1 Like

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the next chapter?

Don't you realize that there is a set schedule, as people tell you

EVERY SINGLE WEEK?

Sunday and Thursday there is a new chapter, that's it.

If you would like to pay some money, you can be a and

pay to read the rest of the story.

You do not need to comment on every single chapter asking for

more chapters. Please do not. It is very annoying. Please do not

do it while apologizing for being annoying. That is even more

annoying.

Bro hes already written the story. It has a set release schedule. It

is a great story, where I am always desiring the next chapter but

you gotta have patience.

Another amazing chapter! I love Rosa and Lily's ongoing

friendship. I can't wait to see where next chapter leads us.

Thank you very much for another excellent and very

entertaining chapter, excited for the next one. I'm also

Sean A week ago · 0 Likes

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When the Roses Bloom Again - The Burden I Carry

When the Roses Bloom

Again - Familiar Faces

exceedingly curious about the lifespan of Harry Potter and

Minerva now lol.

Thanks for the chapter! :D :)

4 more to go.

Great chapter! Can't wait for the next!

Hitmen101 A week ago · 0 Likes

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Author/Site Owner: Lee : TheBlack'sResurgence

Email: (For all enquiries)

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