Chapter Twenty One: Joy Amidst the Sorrow

Ledwin Murray was not a tall man, but he was powerfully built. His dun-brown hair held streaks of grey at the temples, and he moved with the grace of a man who is as physically aware of his environment as it is possible to be.

Harry watched him enter the long room at the Ministry that he had arranged to use for this meeting. Harry didn't want this man anywhere near Potter Manor, he didn't want him anywhere near Ginny.

The man's black eyes assessed him shrewdly.

"You're not what I expected," he said shortly.

"Oh?" Harry said, unamused. "What did you expect?"

Murray was silent as he took a chair. "Minister..."

"'Harry' will do. 'Potter', if you have a problem with first names."

"Alright... Potter," the newcomer eyed him.

"Bill Weasley says you claim to have information that might be useful to us."

"Does he?" Murray smirked.

Harry looked at him through narrowed eyes, nodded, then stood. "You're wasting my time, Mr Murray."

"Wait," the man looked startled. "I do... have information."

"Mr Murray, I agreed to this meeting because Bill Weasley is a very old friend of mine, and he assured me that you weren't a bull shitter. If you have information, please, let's get to it. Otherwise, you are wasting my time, and I am a very busy man."

"Very well," Murray smiled. "You certainly aren't the person we... I expected."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"We were given to understand that you were... I think that the word used was 'poser'. That you thrive on attention, and were merely a... figurehead. That the Weasley family would continue to run things here in their rather... inept way..."

Harry sighed. Some things were beginning to make startling sense. "Is that all that Mr Malfoy had to say?"

Murray looked surprised, but only for a fraction of a second. That's all it took, though, for Harry to know that his assumption was correct.

"Look," Harry rubbed hi hand over his face. "Let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?"

"Indeed, Potter."

"Malfoy is a git."

"Given," Murray said with a smile. "A git I would take great joy in strangling."

"Get in line," Harry said. "Do you or do you not want to ally yourself with our side?"

"Yes," he said, after a moments hesitation.

"Fine. Here's how it works. You give me information. If that information is quality, and not three week old bull shit, I agree to give you limited sanctuary here in England."

"Limited sanctuary?"

"You get to stay here and I won't put you in Azkaban, so long as you keep your nose clean. One toe out of line, and Bill Weasley gets to kill you."

Murray smiled at the joke, the smile slowly fading as he realized that Harry was being perfectly serious. He swallowed.

"And who gets to decide whether the information I give you is any good or not?"

Harry placed his hands on the table and leaned down, intimidatingly, over the older man. "I do. This isn't employment negotiation, Murray, it's war. You approached us, so I'm assuming you have a pressing need to either be here, or to not be there. Therefore, I hold all the cards. Take it or leave it."

After a moment, during which Harry couldn't read a single emotion on the other man's face, Murray began to talk.


Philip Mahood was sixty two years old. His British citizenship was ensured by the fact of his British mother, but his true heritage, the one he chose to honor, came to him from his Saudi father.

He had served Tom Riddle, as his father had served Grindewald before him, as a trusted member of his inner circle. It was said by some that he was the first to step forward to take the Dark Mark. Others claimed that he was the only one of Voldemorts servants that the Dark Lord had trusted enough to not take the mark.

Mahood had served loyally throughout the years of Voldemort's rise. Strangely, when Voldemort disappeared after the attack on Lily and James Potter, so had Mahood. He had resurfaced for the final battle, then disappeared again. No one had any idea of where he'd been in the intervening seventeen years. It had been assumed by many that he had fallen in battle, unnoticed. But they knew, from Hermione's research, that he was back. Along with Langley Griffin, another whom had been assumed dead all along.

Ledwin Murray now told them something they hadn't known.

The three sects that Hermione had uncovered were merely covers. They made no attempt to hide their existence, but made it look as though they did. Their exposure allowed the muggle military to believe that the group as a whole was inexperienced and amateurish. When they didn't find any more as easily as these three, they assumed that that was it, and stopped looking.

They were wrong.

There were, in fact, four sects within England, two in London, one in Liverpool, and one in York. There were also two more in Scotland, and two in Ireland. Continental Europe had dozens.

The eight in Britain had a specific job to do. The three which had been 'exposed' were to cause trifling problems, stage the occasional attack, and avoid capture. They were a distraction. Minor enough to not allow a hint of the true scale, but major enough to keep the muggle and wizarding worlds believing that they were the extent of it.

The others were in the process of planning a major attack, involving all eight sects, in London, in a week. Ledwin Murray had times, and locations, and information on the strength of the attacks in each location.

"Murray," Harry regarded the man sitting across from him. "If this is accurate, you've saved a lot of lives."

"Don't fool yourself, Potter," the other man said coolly. "The only life I'm interested in saving is my own."

"Good." Harry said. "Then you won't mind staying here, nice and safe, as the guest of the Ministry until this information is verified, will you?"

"You said..." Ledwin Murray stood, pulling out a wand. Apparently a spare, as his want had been checked in, as required of visitors, at the front desk when he arrived.

"What I said was I would keep you out of Azkaban. I have no intention of sending you there. However, until I verify the information you've given me, I can't make an informed judgment on whether or not you're leading us into a trap."

Harry observed the other man coolly without moving a muscle, as the dark wizard leveled his wand directly at him.

"I would suggest that you put that down, Murray, and stop acting like a... Malfoy."

"You will not keep me here!"

Harry sighed. Lifting his hand, he made a small gesture with two fingers, and the wand flew from Murray's hand to Harry's.

"Don't even think of toying with me," Harry said.

"How..." Murray's eyes were wide.

"It would appear that there was more than one thing that Mr Malfoy excluded from his... intelligence."

Murray swallowed, the first indication of real discomfort he had shown.

"You don't think I defeated Voldemort with pure luck, did you?"

Murray's eyes darted between his wand, now resting on the table in front of Harry, and Harry's eyes.

"Mr Murray, the problem with Malfoy... any Malfoy, but Draco in particular, is that in their arrogance, they refuse to credit others with any power at all. Anything that Draco Malfoy has told you, or told that pseudo-dark lord you've been working for, is colored by the hatred and jealousy that he's carried around for twenty five years. He has despised me since the moment we met."

Harry could see Murray's mind working.

"So, Mr Murray, if the intent was to feed me enough information to endanger my forces by leading them into well-orchestrated traps, then I'm afraid you've underestimated us. You will be staying here as our guest, until the information you've given us can be validated, or until it is of use to us. Afterwards, you and I will have a very long talk about what happens to double-crossers in the ranks of the Dark Lord. And trust me, that is exactly what he is going to believe you are within hours."

"How would you...?"

"I know, Murray, because I have Severus Snape, and he, I assure you, is an authority on the subject." Harry stood. "Now, you will be escorted to your apartment. The lodgings are really quite comfortable, but should you need anything, please ask.

"I would suggest," Harry moved towards the door, holding Murray's wand and moving easily, "that you make use of the writing materials in the room. I would strongly suggest you start documenting everything you know about Philip Mahood, his minions, and his plans. After I've dealt with this little problem in London, I'll be coming to speak to you and, depending on the outcome of the situation you've already outlined to me, and the quality of what you then have to offer, we'll be discussing how exactly you wish to be returned to our new Dark Lord, and how much you want him to know about our little... conversation."

Harry paused at the door to look back at Ledwin Murray.

"And Mr Murray, you are perfectly safe in the rooms we've set aside for you. However, I would avoid attempting any... hasty leave taking. The wards are quite extensive and any attempt to breach them would be very, very painful."


"Got a minute?" Ginny smiled from the doorway of his office to where he sat behind his huge desk.

"Of course," he pushed away some papers Bill had given him that afternoon. The transcripts from his conversation with Ledwin Murray.

"I..." Ginny came in and shut the doors, setting both privacy and quieting charms.

"Gin?" Harry stood. Now that he really looked at her, he could see the trepidation in her eyes... in her body language.

Ginny was scared.

"Harry... I..."

"God, Ginny, what is it?" He came around the desk to pull her into his arms.

"I went to see the doctor today."

"What?" Harry leaned back to look at her. He'd thought she might be pregnant, he thought that she might tell him soon, but...

But she looked so scared, and she'd been to see a doctor... was it possible it wasn't pregnancy? Was it possible she was really ill? Harry lost all color in his face.

"Ginny? Are you okay?" He led her to the sofa and sat her down, sitting on the coffee table in front of her and taking her hands. "I know you haven't been feeling well lately... I... Dear Merlin, Gin, you're going to be okay, aren't you?"

"Harry," she placed her hands on either side of his head, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Harry, calm down. It's okay, I..."

Harry swallowed. Surely she wouldn't...

"I'm pregnant, Harry."

It took a moment, but when it hit him, it didn't matter that he had suspected. All he felt was joy.

"Ginny? Really?"

"Really," she confirmed, looking a little nervous. "I know it happened quickly..."

"Oh, Ginny!" Harry's hands came up, reaching forward hesitantly, then pulling her into his arms. "Oh, Gin! Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

"Harry...?"

"You are... thank you," he smiled, his happiness spilling out and over. "You... we're going to have a baby!"

"Yes," Ginny confirmed, smiling, relieved, tears running down her cheeks.

"A baby!" Harry was still in awe, his arms tight around her. "Have you told your parents yet?"

"Of course not!" Ginny said. "No one knows but you and I, and the doctor, of course."

"Can we?" He asked. "Can we tell them, now?"

Ginny nodded, "Of course. I just wanted... I wanted you to know first, and I wasn't sure if you'd be pleased or not..."

"Pleased? Oh, dear Merlin, Gin! I couldn't be happier..." A thought occurred to him then, making him stop and look at her. What if...? "Ginny, you're okay with this, aren't you? I mean..."

"Oh, Harry, of course I'm okay with it! It's everything I ever wanted!"

The moment of doubt gone, he leaned forward, kissing her hard, then pulled back as he stood. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and towards the door, disposing of her privacy charms with a wave of his hand as they exited, heading towards the kitchen.

"Molly! Arthur!" he called out as they entered.

"Harry? What is it?" Molly turned from the sink. Arthur looked up from his newspaper and tea at the table.

"Good, you're both here," Harry grinned down at Ginny. "You or me?"

Ginny smiled happily up at him, "Go ahead."

Harry, taking a deep breath turned back to Molly and Arther and said, "Ginny and I..."

At that moment, there was a loud pop and Ron and Hermione apparated into the room.

"I wish you'd just stop it already!" Hermione grumbled. "I'm perfectly capable..."

"I just want to make sure. You haven't done this in a long time..."

"Ron!" Hermione spat, obviously frustrated as she pushed his arms away.

It was then that they became very aware of the four sets of eyes on them. Ron immediately went red. Hermione, if anything, looked more frustrated.

"What wonderful timing," Ginny laughed.

Ron glanced from Harry and Ginny to his parents and back. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Ron." Harry said. "I'm...we're glad you two showed up. We have news."

"News?" Hermione looked from Harry's face to Ginny's, assessing what kind of news it could be.

"What is it? What's happened?" Ron immediately when into 'auror' mode, his hand on his wand.

"Good news, Ron," Ginny said.

"Very good news," Harry confirmed, his arm tightening around his wife.

"No..." Hermione's eyes began to twinkle.

Ginny nodded.

"Molly, Arthur..." Harry took another breath. "Ron, Mione... Ginny's pregnant. We're going to have a baby."

All hell broke loose. Molly screamed, and came running, throwing her arms around them, Arthur rose, loudly giving his congratulations. Hermione wasn't far behind Molly, throwing her arms around Harry and squeezing tightly as she squealed.

Ron stood, staring at Harry. "Bloody hell, really?"

"Really," Harry confirmed, grinning and spluttering through Hermione's wild hair.

"You're going to be a dad?" Ron sounded shocked.

"Looks like it," Harry said.

"When?" Ron asked. Harry stopped, the smile leaving his face.

"I... I don't..." he turned to look down at Ginny. "Ginny? When?"

Ginny's heart melted at the lost look on Harry's face. She knew he hated it when he felt he didn't know something important. "April, Harry."

Harry pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head, despite Molly and Hermione clinging to them, and shrugged over at his friend.

"April," he grinned.