Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews! I've replied to a couple at the
end of the chapter, but I don't think that'll be a regular thing.
Disclaimer: See part one.
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It took a day or so for Godric's parting words to Harry to actually make sense; when they did, it was almost too late, but he and Nathalie managed to flee Essex and boarded a plane to southern Ireland without being followed.
At least, that's what Harry thought, and none of the spirits he spoke to told him otherwise, because they knew things that he did not, and should not, know.
Two days later, Harry realised his mistake.
It was a fairly sunny morning, considering that it was southern Ireland, and Harry was sitting at an outdoor table of a café, reading a muggle newspaper carefully and keeping half an eye on Nathalie, who was playing a ball game with some children on a grassy area next to the café.
His coffee arrived, and he absently sipped it as he read about the strange things that had started to happen all over the United Kingdom. He knew perfectly well what was causing these things - which ranged from animals suddenly going mad and turning on their owners to children talking about things they couldn't possibly know about from the past - but he also knew that the muggles didn't have a clue in hell of working out why it was happening.
*Because to muggles,* he thought to himself with a touch of amusement, *nothing is so strange it is only explainable by magic.* He sighed, and sipped his coffee. *And this is practically unexplainable even in magical terms.* He glanced up to make sure Nathalie was still there, and noted a spirit standing at the edge of the grass gazing at him. He gave the slightest of nods, and returned his eyes to the newspaper, although he wasn't really reading it anymore. *Maybe I should contact the others...*
But no, he knew that wouldn't be a good idea, not with the Aurors of fifteen countries out to get him and Nathalie. That kind of magic, all gathered in one place, would attract spirits from all over, and that would attract Aurors, and that was a risk Harry wasn't prepared to take.
Not just yet, anyway. If the Others got more...meddlesome, then he wouldn't have any choice, but for now, he had to keep Nathalie safe.
He looked up again, and almost choked. Two men were talking to Nathalie, and she was looking nervous. That could mean only one thing, even though the men were wearing muggle clothes.
He flung some coins into the table, left his newspaper, and hurried over to his daughter. He placed a hand on her shoulder protectively and met the eyes of the two Aurors.
*Oh Merlin,* he thought dangerously. *This might make things harder.*
It was Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom.
His two former friends had been chasing him all over Europe for five years, and although he'd managed to evade them thus far...today was not turning out to be his day.
*Another bad day to add to the list.*
"Gentlemen," he began, deceptively softly. "I don't suppose you'd mind leaving my daughter alone?" Nathalie reached up and grabbed his hand; he knew she was scared.
"Harry Potter, you're under arrest," Ron said firmly, the only sign of his raging emotions begin the flicker in his eyes.
Harry shrugged. "As you wish. You are aware, of course, how many times you lot have tried to arrest me before?" Then he lifted Nathalie up into his arms. "Feel free to try to come after me," he offered. "You don't know where I'm going though, so I should just give up now."
Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously, but it was Neville who acted. He raised his wand - despite the muggles, some of whom were watching - and muttered a curse. Harry tensed, expecting it to hit him, but it didn't. Instead, Nathalie shrieked in pain, and began writhing about in his arms.
Harry didn't spare the two Aurors a second glance; he Apparated quickly to their rented flat, and lay her on the bed. He quickly performed a spell to check what curse had been used on her, and promptly panicked. There were very few curses that didn't show up with that spell...and nothing had shown up.
That meant one of two things. Either Nathalie had been hit with a very Dark curse, which he doubted considering the caster was an Auror, or she'd been hit with one of several very simple curses that happened to have a very bad effect on people like them.
*Damn, damn, damn, shit, crap, damn,* Harry cursed silently. There was no way he could help her, he didn't know enough about their reactions to different areas and aspects of magic, and his daughter was writhing and shrieking from pain, and the only place he knew that might be able to help...
The only place he knew...
"I don't have a choice," he muttered, pulling on his cloak. Neither of them had unpacked, so he shrunk the suitcases hurriedly, stuck them in a pocket, grabbed Nathalie's cloak, gathered her into her arms again and Apparated to the edge of the ground of Hogwarts.
It didn't take long for him to reach the front doors of the castle - it was a shorter distance than he remembered - but there was no-one about when he got there, so he pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the place he had last entered nine and a half years ago.
Nathalie gave a pain-filled shriek, and half the dead ghosts and spirits of the castle raced towards the entrance hall in response - as did half the living people.
Dumbledore, as always, reached the entrance hall first of those living, and he stared in almost disbelief at the black-cloaked man and the shrieking girl he held.
"Harry," he murmured.
Harry looked up, away from his daughter, with desperation in his eyes. "She was hit - I don't know what - curse - Aurors - different effect on her, don't know what - " he stammered. Evidently Dumbledore caught the drift of what he was trying to say, because he turned calmly to madam Pomfrey, who had appeared next to him.
"Miss Potter appears in need of medical attention," he remarked. "Would you, Poppy?" Pomfrey, pale and nervous-looking, nodded and approached Harry carefully.
"Come on, Potter," she murmured. "Up to the hospital wing, we'll be able to help her there..."
Harry followed her through the castle, up the familiar route to the hospital wing, and carefully placed Nathalie on a bed. The moment he retreated, to allow Pomfrey access, Nathalie's eyes flew open.
"Papa!" she shrieked. "Papa, Papa!"
Harry was at her side again in a moment. "I'm here, cherie," he soothed. She gasped in pain again, and Pomfrey grabbed Harry's arm.
"If you don't move, she will most likely die," she snapped. "Even a half- trained medi-witch would know that!"
Harry looked back at his daughter, and slowly nodded. He moved away, and she shrieked. The faintest touch of a ghostly hand on his arm made him move back. Pomfrey darted forward and began 'scanning' Nathalie with her wand as James and Lily Potter soothed their granddaughter in the way only the spirits could.
A hand came down on Harry's shoulder, and he nearly jumped a foot, then turned to meet Dumbledore's eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said brokenly. "I didn't...I didn't know where else..."
"Of course, dear boy," Dumbledore agreed jovially. "However your being here may cause some...problems."
"Of course," Harry agreed distractedly, glancing over his shoulder as Nathalie whimpered. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "But, Nathalie, and I.....I didn't have anywhere else to take her, and..."
"Of course," Dumbledore said again. "I imagine that she will be under the tender care of Madam Pomfrey for some time, considering the violent reaction to whichever curse it was. Perhaps you and I should talk."
"I...I don't want to leave her," Harry murmured. "She...she's all I have, Professor."
A gleam of sympathy entered Dumbledore's eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he was stopped by the hospital door banging open and a familiar black-haired, black-eyed man striding through in a fury.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" he roared, "BY LETTING THAT - THAT - THAT THING INTO THIS SCHOOL?"
That startled Harry out of his panic. He looked up, and met Snape's eyes calmly. "We prefer to be called Necromancers," he retorted. "Not 'things'."
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To be continued.
T.K. Yuy - the thing you dismissed in your review as not being what is described in 'Stare Death in the Face' will be explained further, so don't have a panic attack, please! And I'm not evil. Well, not evil incarnate, anyway.
Everyone else, stuff will be explained soon. Well, some stuff, anyway.
Disclaimer: See part one.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It took a day or so for Godric's parting words to Harry to actually make sense; when they did, it was almost too late, but he and Nathalie managed to flee Essex and boarded a plane to southern Ireland without being followed.
At least, that's what Harry thought, and none of the spirits he spoke to told him otherwise, because they knew things that he did not, and should not, know.
Two days later, Harry realised his mistake.
It was a fairly sunny morning, considering that it was southern Ireland, and Harry was sitting at an outdoor table of a café, reading a muggle newspaper carefully and keeping half an eye on Nathalie, who was playing a ball game with some children on a grassy area next to the café.
His coffee arrived, and he absently sipped it as he read about the strange things that had started to happen all over the United Kingdom. He knew perfectly well what was causing these things - which ranged from animals suddenly going mad and turning on their owners to children talking about things they couldn't possibly know about from the past - but he also knew that the muggles didn't have a clue in hell of working out why it was happening.
*Because to muggles,* he thought to himself with a touch of amusement, *nothing is so strange it is only explainable by magic.* He sighed, and sipped his coffee. *And this is practically unexplainable even in magical terms.* He glanced up to make sure Nathalie was still there, and noted a spirit standing at the edge of the grass gazing at him. He gave the slightest of nods, and returned his eyes to the newspaper, although he wasn't really reading it anymore. *Maybe I should contact the others...*
But no, he knew that wouldn't be a good idea, not with the Aurors of fifteen countries out to get him and Nathalie. That kind of magic, all gathered in one place, would attract spirits from all over, and that would attract Aurors, and that was a risk Harry wasn't prepared to take.
Not just yet, anyway. If the Others got more...meddlesome, then he wouldn't have any choice, but for now, he had to keep Nathalie safe.
He looked up again, and almost choked. Two men were talking to Nathalie, and she was looking nervous. That could mean only one thing, even though the men were wearing muggle clothes.
He flung some coins into the table, left his newspaper, and hurried over to his daughter. He placed a hand on her shoulder protectively and met the eyes of the two Aurors.
*Oh Merlin,* he thought dangerously. *This might make things harder.*
It was Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom.
His two former friends had been chasing him all over Europe for five years, and although he'd managed to evade them thus far...today was not turning out to be his day.
*Another bad day to add to the list.*
"Gentlemen," he began, deceptively softly. "I don't suppose you'd mind leaving my daughter alone?" Nathalie reached up and grabbed his hand; he knew she was scared.
"Harry Potter, you're under arrest," Ron said firmly, the only sign of his raging emotions begin the flicker in his eyes.
Harry shrugged. "As you wish. You are aware, of course, how many times you lot have tried to arrest me before?" Then he lifted Nathalie up into his arms. "Feel free to try to come after me," he offered. "You don't know where I'm going though, so I should just give up now."
Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously, but it was Neville who acted. He raised his wand - despite the muggles, some of whom were watching - and muttered a curse. Harry tensed, expecting it to hit him, but it didn't. Instead, Nathalie shrieked in pain, and began writhing about in his arms.
Harry didn't spare the two Aurors a second glance; he Apparated quickly to their rented flat, and lay her on the bed. He quickly performed a spell to check what curse had been used on her, and promptly panicked. There were very few curses that didn't show up with that spell...and nothing had shown up.
That meant one of two things. Either Nathalie had been hit with a very Dark curse, which he doubted considering the caster was an Auror, or she'd been hit with one of several very simple curses that happened to have a very bad effect on people like them.
*Damn, damn, damn, shit, crap, damn,* Harry cursed silently. There was no way he could help her, he didn't know enough about their reactions to different areas and aspects of magic, and his daughter was writhing and shrieking from pain, and the only place he knew that might be able to help...
The only place he knew...
"I don't have a choice," he muttered, pulling on his cloak. Neither of them had unpacked, so he shrunk the suitcases hurriedly, stuck them in a pocket, grabbed Nathalie's cloak, gathered her into her arms again and Apparated to the edge of the ground of Hogwarts.
It didn't take long for him to reach the front doors of the castle - it was a shorter distance than he remembered - but there was no-one about when he got there, so he pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the place he had last entered nine and a half years ago.
Nathalie gave a pain-filled shriek, and half the dead ghosts and spirits of the castle raced towards the entrance hall in response - as did half the living people.
Dumbledore, as always, reached the entrance hall first of those living, and he stared in almost disbelief at the black-cloaked man and the shrieking girl he held.
"Harry," he murmured.
Harry looked up, away from his daughter, with desperation in his eyes. "She was hit - I don't know what - curse - Aurors - different effect on her, don't know what - " he stammered. Evidently Dumbledore caught the drift of what he was trying to say, because he turned calmly to madam Pomfrey, who had appeared next to him.
"Miss Potter appears in need of medical attention," he remarked. "Would you, Poppy?" Pomfrey, pale and nervous-looking, nodded and approached Harry carefully.
"Come on, Potter," she murmured. "Up to the hospital wing, we'll be able to help her there..."
Harry followed her through the castle, up the familiar route to the hospital wing, and carefully placed Nathalie on a bed. The moment he retreated, to allow Pomfrey access, Nathalie's eyes flew open.
"Papa!" she shrieked. "Papa, Papa!"
Harry was at her side again in a moment. "I'm here, cherie," he soothed. She gasped in pain again, and Pomfrey grabbed Harry's arm.
"If you don't move, she will most likely die," she snapped. "Even a half- trained medi-witch would know that!"
Harry looked back at his daughter, and slowly nodded. He moved away, and she shrieked. The faintest touch of a ghostly hand on his arm made him move back. Pomfrey darted forward and began 'scanning' Nathalie with her wand as James and Lily Potter soothed their granddaughter in the way only the spirits could.
A hand came down on Harry's shoulder, and he nearly jumped a foot, then turned to meet Dumbledore's eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said brokenly. "I didn't...I didn't know where else..."
"Of course, dear boy," Dumbledore agreed jovially. "However your being here may cause some...problems."
"Of course," Harry agreed distractedly, glancing over his shoulder as Nathalie whimpered. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "But, Nathalie, and I.....I didn't have anywhere else to take her, and..."
"Of course," Dumbledore said again. "I imagine that she will be under the tender care of Madam Pomfrey for some time, considering the violent reaction to whichever curse it was. Perhaps you and I should talk."
"I...I don't want to leave her," Harry murmured. "She...she's all I have, Professor."
A gleam of sympathy entered Dumbledore's eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he was stopped by the hospital door banging open and a familiar black-haired, black-eyed man striding through in a fury.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" he roared, "BY LETTING THAT - THAT - THAT THING INTO THIS SCHOOL?"
That startled Harry out of his panic. He looked up, and met Snape's eyes calmly. "We prefer to be called Necromancers," he retorted. "Not 'things'."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To be continued.
T.K. Yuy - the thing you dismissed in your review as not being what is described in 'Stare Death in the Face' will be explained further, so don't have a panic attack, please! And I'm not evil. Well, not evil incarnate, anyway.
Everyone else, stuff will be explained soon. Well, some stuff, anyway.