Chapter 10

Edge of the Abyss

The sound of someone humming an odd tune echoed around in Wolfe's mind, slowly but insistently coaxing him back to consciousness. Opening his eyes, he saw an uneven, rocky surface gleaming dimly in soft light, confirming that he was indeed in a cave. He'd already suspected it, since he'd awoken once before in pitch-darkness and explored the rocky, uneven surroundings by touch.

He was glad to have the benefit of vision back, since it would allow him to find the cave's exit more easily. The harrowing experience of trying to find his way out by touch had plagued his dreams incessantly.

Wolfe sat upright, looking for the light source that was now allowing him to see his surroundings. He found it to be a small blue fire, five or so yards away. A very familiar-looking old man was sitting on a rock next to it.

"Master Lei!"

The man shook his head. "No. This face merely serves to put you at ease."

Wolfe narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

Wolfe was briefly taken aback. "How did I get here?"

"You were born."

"Why am I alive?"

"Well, that is the question, isn't it?" The old man chuckled briefly, before his face took on the grave expression Master Lei had so often worn. "You were dreaming?"

"Yes," Wolfe replied.

"About what?" The man stared at him intently for a few seconds, before continuing. "You were dreaming about escape, weren't you? Don't. There's no way to escape the Abyss. You might as well give up … reconcile yourself, as I did."

"The first obligation of a prisoner is to escape."

"Ah … so, if one is a prisoner of love, one must escape to solitude? If one is a prisoner of joy, one must escape to sadness?"

The fact that the man was able to read his thoughts so effortlessly was disconcerting. Wolfe concentrated, trying to read the man's mind, and was dismayed when nothing happened. He either didn't have access to his gift anymore, or the old man was so adept at blocking the ability that he seemed to not even be there.

"I see you are still upset that I won't tell you my name. But what does it matter? What good would knowledge of my name do in this situation? It tells you nothing, but leaves me at a disadvantage. Words have meaning and names have power. The Multiverse began with a word, you know. But which came first? The word, or the thought behind the word? You can't create language without thought, and you can't conceive thought without a language. So, which created the other, and thus created the Multiverse?"

The man paused, probably expecting Wolfe to answer. But he stubbornly kept silent, and the man heaved an exasperated sigh.

"No, I see you're far to wrapped up in your question to consider the larger issues," he said, before he rose from his rocky perch and walked over to Wolfe.

"What question?" Wolfe asked, eyeing the man warily as he came closer.

"Who are you?"

Even though he'd been trying hard to keep the man out of his mind, it was disconcerting how easily the man had seen through him. "How did you—"

"It's a dangerous question, isn't it?" the man continued blithely, cutting off Wolfe's question. "There's never a good answer to it. I suppose that's the point. Now, what you are—that's a question I can answer, at least, in your case. You're dead."

"I wouldn't be standing here talking to you if I were dead, would I?"

"Does the blood still flow in your veins?" the man asked evenly.

Wolfe checked his pulse, and was horrified when he found nothing. "No pulse," he muttered.

"Because, my reluctant friend, you are quite, quite dead."

Wolfe shook off the old man's crazy suggestion. He had better things to do, like finding the way out. He spotted the entrance to a tunnel, a bit farther away. He clambered to his feet, and as he did so, he noticed a deep chasm about four yards from where he'd been lying.

"The Abyss," the old man said

Wolfe shuddered as he realised that he could have plunged to his doom if he'd continued with his exploration in the dark a bit longer. He pushed the apprehension to the back of his mind and headed towards the tunnel.

"Nothing to say about being dead?" the man asked, as he followed Wolfe.

"It's a trick!" Wolfe snarled, quickening his pace.

"Is it? Tell me, what is the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

Wolfe stopped in his tracks. Images of Heidi's peril flashed through his mind, and how he'd jumped in front of her to protect her. He remembered the bright green light blinding him.

"I jumped in front of a Killing Curse."

"Were you hit?"

Wolfe found that he couldn't recall felling any pain. "I don't remember."

"There are only two possibilities. If the curse struck you, you're dead. But if it didn't, then this is all a dream." The man frowned, as something seemed to occur to him. "Unless … you're in between."

"Between what?"

"Between … moments … measured with each tick of the clock. Tick, a possibility for joy is gone. Tock, a reckless action ends one path, but opens another. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Always running out of time." He levelled his gaze at Wolfe. "Yours is almost used up. You are between seconds, lost in the infinite possibilities between tick and tock. Tick … your life. Tock … well, it was a good life, but a short one. Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick—"

The man's impersonation of a clock ceased abruptly as Wolfe slammed him into the wall of the cave.

"How do I know you're not behind all this, huh? Just what are you up to? Who are you?"

As his question echoed through the cave, Wolfe thought he heard a scream through the echoes. It sounded like Heidi's voice.

"You're closer now, aren't you? Yes … I see you are. But closer to tick, or closer to tock? I don't know. Only time will tell, and here, between the moments, we have all the time in the world."

Feeling even more disturbed than ever, Wolfe released him and entered the tunnel.

The light of the blue fire dimmed as he moved deeper into the tunnel, and soon he was in immersed in darkness again. He could hear the old man's footsteps behind him, and from the sound of it, the old man had to know the tunnel like the back of his hand, for he never seemed to stumble.

He didn't know how long he'd stumbled around in the darkness, hugging the wall to ensure that he was still headed deeper into the cave, and growing more and more irritated about the old man's lack of decency to offer him guidance. When it seemed like he'd been walking for days, he finally saw a dim light at the end of the tunnel.

His spirits lifted, and with the light's benefit, he quickly made his way to the end of the tunnel. His spirits came crashing down as he recognised the chamber to be the same one he'd left.

"I've come full circle," he groaned.

"Don't we all?" the man replied laconically.

Wolfe turned to the man. "Look, you've been down here longer than I have."

The man nodded serenely. "Oh much, much longer."

"Well, there must be some way out of here."

'Tick, you're alive. Tock, you're dead. The only way out is to surrender to tock."

"No, no … I can't do that. There's a madman on the loose, and if he isn't stopped, many people will die."

"Nothing goes on forever. Not you, and not even I. Not love, nor life. Entropy consumes everything. We all cease to exist sooner or later, and all mortals die."

"Well, they'd be dying before their time," Wolfe persisted. "And those would be the lucky ones. The survivors would have to live under the oppression of that madman. Don't you care about that?"

"Of course I care. It's a terrible thing when the gifts you've given are abused. There's always a price for that abuse, but it doesn't stop the abusers—it never does."

Wolfe frowned. It hadn't gone unnoticed to him when the man spoke of mortals. Now the man was talking about gifts he apparently bestowed on people.

"If you won't answer who you are, and if you're unwilling to give me your name, perhaps you'll tell me a name. If you're immortal, odds are that you're mentioned in mythology, like the Draconians and the Nalhati. What name—or names—did the mortals have for you?"

The old man gave Wolfe an amused grin. "Good, you're learning to ask the right questions. I've been called Thoth, Odin, Okuni-Nushi, Ea, and many other names."

"You're a god? The god of magic?"

"I find that word far too unspecific. I am the consciousness behind magic. And I don't knowingly bestow magic power on beings destined to be evil," the old man continued, answering the question Wolfe had been about to ask him. "The knowledge of who will be evil is outside my sphere of influence, for no one is born evil."

"Wolfe shrugged. I guess. So, if you are the 'consciousness behind magic,' that means that you know a way out of here."

"Perhaps."

"You haven't always been here?"

"No."

"Why are you still here?"

"I've been waiting."

"For what?"

"Someone to talk to. You're the first to make it this far—actually, the second. The first one was an infant, and his fate did not lie in my hands, or in his own, like yours is now. Therefore, I was unable to have this conversation with him. The One beyond me immediately sent him on his way."

"Harry!"

"Yes, Harry. It's amazing how similar your lives are. You even share many common Soul Mates."

"Wait a minute! You said that Harry having been here wasn't your doing. My being here is?"

"Perhaps. We all have secrets and surprises." The old man's serene smile turned more enigmatic. "Did you know you have a Nalhati inside you? Well, a piece of one," he amended.

That statement brought the vivid recollection of the inner voice telling Wolfe to jump now, to interpose himself between the curse and Heidi. Again, the answer seemed obvious.

"Novoridu."

"Is that his name?" the man muttered absently. "I think I met him once, long ago."

Wolfe sat down of a flat stone outcropping next to the fire. This was all very interesting, but he still didn't know how to get out.

"You're clinging to life, and that's the problem. You're afraid to let go. But if you want to leave, you must lay down the burden of life. You must surrender yourself to tock."

Wolfe shook his head. "I can't. The others need me."

"You can't turn away from death simply because you're afraid of what might happen without you. That's not enough. You're not embracing life, you're fleeing death. And so you're caught in between, unable to go forwards or backwards. Your friends need what you can be when you're no longer afraid. When you know who you are, why you are, and what you want. When you are no longer looking for reasons to live… but can simply be."

"I can't … I don't know how to do that."

Then I can't help you, and you will be caught forever in between. You must let go. Surrender yourself to death. The death of flesh, and the death of fear. Step into the abyss, and let go. Remember why you jumped in front of certain death."

The feelings Wolfe had felt when making the decision surged through him again, helping him remember. He'd considered Heidi and his unborn child's lives as more important than revenge, even if it meant losing his son.

As that thought crossed his mind, the light in the cave began to dim. The rocky floor rippled, and the Abyss was sliding closer in a very surreal way. Even though he was a wizard, and once a Ranger, he'd never seen anything like it in all his years.

"It's getting darker."

"I know. You're close, friend. Very close. It's easy to find something worth dying for. Do you have anything worth living for?"

"The same reason I was willing to die," Wolfe instantly answered, thinking of Heidi and his children.

"And therein lies the key," the old man's voice sounded from complete darkness.

"I can't see you anymore," Wolfe said, feeling slight panic.

"As it should be."

The man's words faded into nothingness, and for a brief moment Wolfe found himself floating in pitch-darkness again, unable to see, hear or smell anything. But the total sensory deprivation disappeared as quickly as it came, the silence suddenly broken by the rhythmic pounding akin to a beating heart. His heart.

Wolfe almost welcomed the burning in his lungs, before he soothed it with a deep breath. Then he opened his eyes, looking into the shocked faces of Clara da Silva and Rolf Larsson.

He smiled.

X

X

"So we arrive just as Wolfe's hit by the Avada Kedavra, and the curse rebounds off him, back into the caster. When Clara checked Wolfe about fifteen seconds later—it took us that long to pry Heidi off him, she was hysterical—there was no heartbeat, so we thought the curse killed him. Then he starts breathing again," Larsson told the enraptured Ranger audience, assembled in the mess hall.

"But if he was dead, he couldn't have come back to life just like that," Adi Ganilau protested.

"I'm not a Healer. I only checked his pulse the non-magical way, and I only held my finger to the artery for a few seconds," Clara said with a shrug. "Maybe his heart slowed down. I mean, his grandfather did teach him some weird techniques to control his body. So maybe he didn't come back to life at all. Maybe he simply didn't die in the first place. Actually, I dared to assume that before I checked him, because Killing Curses don't tend to rebound off targets, back onto their casters. If that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have bothered to check him for signs of life."

"I wonder how he did it," Khan said. "Is it a raw power thing, or can it be taught? It would be convenient if we were able to block the Killing Curse, too."

That brought a chorus of murmurs out of the crowd, and Harry was wondering about the same thing. He even had a few theories of his own. Maybe the protection that had been the result of his mother's sacrifice had somehow been replicated in Wolfe after they had merged into Phoenix. After all, Wolfe had also copied Harry's Parselmouth gift, just as Harry had copied Wolfe's ability in Mind Reading. The only flaw in this theory was the warning Dumbledore had given Harry at the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts, namely, that he should always dodge when someone was planning to curse him, because his mother's sacrifice wouldn't repel a Killing Curse twice. So why had it worked for Wolfe? Could it be that the protection had been refreshed because Wolfe was another person?

Some people were looking in Harry's direction, wondering if he knew something they didn't, and Harry was beginning to feel the urge to render himself intangible again and sink through the floor.

Fortunately, Commander Faust came in, providing a distraction. "All right, people, get back to what you would have been doing today if Mr Wolfe hadn't warned us about the attack."

"There are no bodies to clean up, sir," Khan said.

Faust frowned. "What do you mean?"

"If Wolfe hadn't warned us about the attack, we'd be picking up the Concordian citizens' body parts," Khan said with a grin, and the assembled Rangers laughed.

Faust's moustache quivered and turned upwards slightly. "Let me rephrase my orders, then. Get working on what you would have been doing if there hadn't been an attack. I believe you and your team were on patrol."

Khan heaved an annoyed sigh. "We were due back early tomorrow morning. Can't we stay?"

"And send your replacements out early? That wouldn't be fair to them."

"And it would be a bad idea, too," Clara da Silva said. "The smarter bad guys know that we're all here now. They might try to take advantage of our slower response time."

"I suppose it is too much to ask," Khan said, his face turning serious again. "What about Marco Salas and Tariq Ben-Hamoud? If I'm not mixing up my schedules, they ought to have been in the relieving patrol. I reckon they'll be out of it for a while."

"Yeah, will Marco be all right?" Danielle Esklove asked.

"He'll live, thanks to the extra potency of the Miraculum-Weed-enriched potions and salves," Faust announced, and the Rangers murmured approvingly. "Now get back to work, the lot of you!"

The Rangers broke up and headed to the various exits of the mess hall. Harry made to leave as well, but Faust's meaningful glance made him stay.

Khan had also remained behind, and was asking Faust about Ben-Hamoud. "—lost his wand arm. He won't be nearly as good at spell work with his off hand, and even a very good magical prosthesis made by the artificers won't be as good as the real thing for wielding weapons."

Harry felt his blood chill in his veins. He hadn't thought of that earlier. Long ago, the Healing Arts had hit a proverbial roadblock when it came to further advances in the area of limb regeneration. The Healers still didn't know how to re-grow anything more complicated than lost fingers and toes. Tariq wouldn't necessarily have to leave the Order of Illumination if he didn't want to, but he'd certainly never serve in combat duty again.

"Actually, it seems that Mr Savin has heard of Ben-Hamoud's plight. He thinks it is possible to brew a potion that mimics a crustacean's ability to regenerate entire severed limbs," Faust said, with evident awe in his voice. "He says he already has the formula worked out in his mind, and that he'll brew it as soon as he's done attending to the duties in Shamballah."

"Yes, the crowning." Khan shook his head. "I forgot all about that, in the excitement. It's a pity the boy can't multiply himself like his cousin can."

Faust laughed. "That would certainly be very handy, wouldn't it? I'll see you tomorrow, Sahid, and you don't need to hurry with your patrol report. I expect to be buried in the tons of paperwork that Yamato's attack will bring forth. Many people will want an explanation."

"You're forgetting press conferences about the Man-Who-Lived."

"I'll leave those to Gustava," Faust said.

Khan grinned, tossed Faust an informal salute and strode out of the mess hall, leaving Faust alone with Harry. The rotund German turned to Harry.

"Aberforth Dumbledore sent me to find you. He needs to talk to you."

"What about?"

"He didn't say. All he said was that it was extremely important. I think it may have something to do with Wolfe's survival."

"All right. Where is he?"

"Medical wing, in the recovery room adjacent to the captain's personal laboratory. You know, I think I'll come with you. I'm rather curious about how he survived, myself." Faust smiled. "How does it feel not to be the only Boy-Who-Lived any more?"

"I still am the only Boy-Who-Lived, because there was more to that name than simply surviving the Killing Curse. It was also about stopping a wizard who'd never been stopped from killing once he'd decided to kill someone. But aside from that, Sahid was right. Man-Who-Lived would be a more appropriate name for Wolfe."

"Commander Faust," an anxious voice sounded from the tiny speaker on Faust's shoulder. "The United States' Ministry just sent word about a break in the barriers around the Mirror Realm portal in Lake Michigan."

"On my way," Faust said. He shook his head. "Sounds like Yamato escaped. Well, Harry, you'll have to fill me in on Aberforth's information later. Ah, the burdens of command. I have no idea how Donovan managed to hold the job for such a long time. You know, I've been toying with an idea—tell me what you think."

"What about Yamato?"

"He's already gone. Two minutes isn't going to make much difference."

Harry nodded. "All right, I'm listening."

"Provided that the Order of Illumination continues to grow as it has been these last five years, and provided that we get a nice long stretch of relative peace, I was thinking about implementing a peacetime directive which would place limits on the officers' ages. It would allow younger Rangers to make Lieutenant more easily."

"Why this idea?"

"Currently, lieutenants may serve in an officer's capacity until they're sixty-five, captains until they're seventy-five, and commanders until they're eighty-five. Though many officers retire before they reach their maximum age, there were a few that stayed on that long. I'd like to readjust the maximum age downward for all officers, but especially for lieutenants.

"The reason for this is that, when I was a beginning Fourth-Class Ranger, there were two Martial Division lieutenants who stayed on until they were sixty-five. They were very competent, but it was obvious that they couldn't keep up with the younger Rangers in the field—experience can only compensate for so much. Off the top of my head, I could name three Rangers who could easily have replaced them. But these Rangers never got the chance to do so, because, by the time those two lieutenants retired, the younger three had retired too. Vassily Poliakoff and I were thrust into the officers' ranks, though we weren't experienced enough. If those two lieutenants had retired in their mid-fifties, the more experienced Rangers would have replaced them, and Vassily and I would have had six or seven more years to gain additional experience."

Harry frowned. "I see your point, sir. But it wouldn't really be fair to shorten the service time for Combat Ranger lieutenants without doing the same in the other divisions."

"I thought of that. I'll reduce the maximum age in every division. Now, if a Ranger wants to continue serving in the Order after his official service time is up, we could use the structure very much like the one we used after the war, with the retired Rangers that had come back to mitigate the attrition. These semi-retired Rangers could continue to work, albeit in a diminished capacity, like Sharif and Serafina in the Medical Division, and Mei Yee and Janos Gaal in the Artificer's Division."

"What about Fourth Class Rangers who are about to retire after completing the twenty-year minimum? I know for a fact that a handful of them don't want to stop yet, even though they won't be promoted to officers. They're still in their early to mid-forties."

"I have a plan for them, too. They could even continue to work full time, still going in the field if they're Combat Rangers or Intel Field Operatives, but serving as personal mentors, trainers and coaches for the recruits and the Seventh Class Rangers. That would free up the other experienced Rangers for the really serious work."

"Sounds good. It's not that I don't like instructing the inexperienced Rangers, but at times I felt that my abilities would be more useful elsewhere."

Faust chuckled. "I know, your wife told me. That partially led to my coming up with this plan."

If Faust hadn't admitted to agreeing with Harry's feelings, Harry would have been mortified. He resolved to have a talk with his wife about discussing things he said in their private moments with others, especially if it concerned critical comments. Though Harry knew his wife well enough to realise that she'd probably mentioned his views to Faust after the commander had somehow touched on the subject, he still thought she should have told him about the commander's plan first, leaving him with the choice to talk to Faust.

"Commander Faust, you haven't moved from your previous position. Is everything all right?" the same anxious voice that had called him before sounded through the small speaker on his shoulder.

"I am on my way, Miss Prela," Faust said in a professional tone, though he was giving Harry a long-suffering look.

"When did you plan to implement this peacetime directive, sir?"

"Provided that times remain relatively calm and we find enough recruits— about six years."

"Sounds feasible."

"Commander Faust—"

"Coming, mother!" Faust barked.

X

X

Ginny pushed the private recovery room's door open, encountering quite a crowd on the other side. A tired-looking but otherwise perfectly healthy Wolfe was sitting up in bed, his back supported by a pile of pillows. Heidi sat across his lap, and Henry and Caesar the Crup were perched on the foot of the bed.

Surprisingly, Robert sat on a chair next to the bed, looking up at his father with newly found admiration. He was probably thinking that his father had become just as great as 'the famous Harry Potter' and dreaming about the benefits this would have for his status among his schoolmates, and was barely aware of Rachel Kelly, who shared the chair with him and was cuddling up to him.

Jasmine, Charlie Jr, Nicolai, Mary, and Aberforth occupied chairs against the walls. Rosie was sitting on her big brother's lap, peppering him with questions about school, which was what she'd been doing ever since he got back a few days ago. Crookshanks and Annabelle were occupying the last chair, and the ginger cat looked up at Ginny haughtily, daring her to chase him away.

"The Lescorieres didn't waste any time before spreading the word," Ginny began. "Percy and Hannah knew what had happened before I did."

Wolfe sighed. "They told everyone about the Man-Who-Lived, eh?"

"They did mention that in passing, though, from what I've heard, they mostly concentrated on how you barged in like a barbarian and wrecked their house," Ginny added with a grin.

Flames of anger rose in Heidi's eyes. "Why, those—"

"It's all right, Heidi," Wolfe said gently, before leaning forward to kiss her on the lips.

Heidi, however, would have none of it, and she pulled back. "But you saved their lives, too! They …they ought to show more gratitude!" she sputtered indignantly.

"When the realisation that they owe me their lives finally makes its way through their crooked and narrow thought patterns to the part of the brain they think with, I'm sure they'll stop their ranting."

"Ugh! Those nasty Lescorieres," Heidi huffed. "I almost wish you hadn't saved them."

"I wouldn't even have been in the neighbourhood if you hadn't been in trouble. What possessed you to go back for the cats at Ron and Hermione's, anyway? You know Crookshanks is more than capable of looking after himself and Annabelle. Right, Crookshanks?"

Crookshanks flicked his tail in agreement, looking offended by the mere suggestion that he wouldn't have been able to keep himself out of trouble.

Heidi scowled at Crookshanks. "Don't look at me like that, you ginger—"

Wolfe placed his hands across Heidi's mouth. "Not in front of the kids."

Heidi got a twinkle in her eyes, and Wolfe removed his hand from her mouth a second later, wiping it off on the sheet. "Oh, that was nasty."

The mischievous twinkle in Heidi's eyes intesified. "What's so nasty about licking the palm of your hand, compared to all the other places—"

"Don't go there!" Wolfe pleaded. "We've got guests. Really, why don't you go on Padma Patil's Wireless Broadcast Hour and tell all of Concordia about it."

"Yeah, I really don't want to know anything about my brother in that context," Jasmine said.

"Way to go, Aunt Heidi!" Charlie Junior commented cheekily, earning a slap to the back of his head from his mother.

"We can always have some girl-talk later, and you can tell me all about it," Mary said playfully, surprising Ginny and all the other women in the room, for it was no secret that she'd felt threatened by Heidi, with regards to her relationship with Nicolai. Then it occurred to Ginny that it probably had something to do with the fact that Heidi's attention was now squarely fixed on Wolfe, leaving no doubt in Mary's mind that she wasn't a threat any longer.

"Ah, Harry's coming," Wolfe said, just as a feeling of warmth passed through Ginny's heart, something she always felt when Harry got closer than two hundred feet.

If she concentrated, she could always get a vague sense of his feelings no matter where he was. But when he was close to her, it was like they had a permanent empathic link. She couldn't read his thoughts, but she could read his feelings quite clearly. At the moment she was sensing a great deal of curiosity, as well as a bit of anxiety.

Aberforth cleared his throat. "I'm afraid everyone but Nicolai and myself will have to leave after Harry arrives."

"Oh, really!" Heidi and Ginny exclaimed simultaneously, and in very similar tones.

Nicolai seemed taken aback by the mutinous reply, but Aberforth's eyes had the famous Dumbledore twinkle in them. "I suppose, being the better halves of the men concerned, an exception can be made for the two of you."

Mary frowned. "Better halves? Plural?" She looked at Heidi and Wolfe incredulously. "Did you two get married in secret last night?"

Ginny was about to explain to Mary that Aberforth hadn't meant it literally in the sense that Heidi and Wolfe were officially wed, when Henry spoke up. "They didn't get married. But that's okay, because people don't have to be married to make babies, right, Aunt Heidi?"

For a few tense seconds, one would have been able to hear a pin drop, before Heidi broke the silence.

"Henry!" she huffed, blushing furiously.

Ginny erupted in laughter, and the adults and teenagers joined her, leaving the four younger children to cast awkward looks at the strange behaviour of their elders.

"Honestly, Aunt Heidi, there's no reason to be embarrassed," Charlie Junior said between giggles. "It's not like he's saying anything we didn't already know. If I hadn't been able to read your thoughts, your behaviour still would've given you—" He was forced to stop, in order to lean to the side and evade another swat from his mother. "Come on, Mum, she was broadcasting!"

"That's no reason to bring it up. You wanted to add to her embarrassment," Jasmine said, as she collected Rosie from his lap. "Come on, we're going."

"Do I have to go too, Dad?" Robert asked, eyeing his father hopefully.

"Only for a few minutes."

With a sigh of resignation, Robert slid off his chair, followed closely by Rachel. Jasmine helped Henry off the high hospital bed, before herding the children towards the door, which Mary was holding open.

"What about the animals?" Heidi asked.

"I don't think they'll tell anyone else what we're about to discuss," Aberforth said.

"True, but they ought to know their place," Wolfe replied. "Caesar, Crookshanks, Annabelle … out!"

The Crup obediently leapt of the bed and scampered out the door. Crookshanks, however, looked mutinous, and Annabelle wouldn't leave if Crookshanks didn't.

Wolfe fixed Crookshanks with a penetrating stare. "Do you really want to test me, Crookshanks?"

Crookshanks averted his gaze, lazily got up, and made a show of stretching his legs before haughtily striding out of the room, slowing down momentarily to allow Annabelle to precede him. While in the doorway, he looked at Wolfe one more time, as if to make a point the he could have stayed but hadn't wanted to, anyway.

"Out!" Wolfe barked, and some invisible force seemed to shove Crookshanks out the door. An angry yowl echoed through the corridor outside just as Harry came through the still-open door.

"What was that all about?"

"Crookshanks mistook me for Ron," Wolfe grumbled.

Harry smiled, no doubt having received additional information telepathically. He closed the door before turning to Aberforth. "You requested my presence?"

"Have a seat," Aberforth said, and waited for everyone for everyone to settle in before he continued. "Harry … eleven and a half years ago, my brother told you, in detail, about the magic in your mother's sacrifice, and its protective properties."

Harry nodded, and though he didn't show his anxiety, Ginny could feel it rise a notch.

Aberforth sighed, suddenly looking very old. "I find myself having to confess … that he wasn't entirely truthful."

X

Please read

Author's Note: Many of you correctly assumed that Wolfe hadn't died. Now I issue a challenge, namely, to speculate on what Aberforth's explanation for Wolfe's survival will be. Let us see how well you know how I think. :-) Anyone who reviews and submits their theory before closes for upgrades on the 17th, will get a chance to see the Chapter 11 and 12 early, by e-mail. So for those of you who don't have a account or don't have their e-mails listed, remember to type your e-mail correctly. Even if you have no idea at all what my twisted mind has cooked up to explain Wolfe's survival, I'd love to see your wild speculations. The wildest speculation will get Chapter 11 early, as a consolation prize.

I'll give you one hint … there is a clue in Wolfe's conversation with the mysterious figure. Oh, and before I forget: Disclaimer: The first section of this chapter, the one with the mysterious figure, was almost completely taken from an outside source, much like the Pulp Fiction conversation in Mind War. J. Michael Straczynski rules!

And now to the review answers:

NCDSbookworm: Gudrun and the children will show up at some point. Don't worry.

Gogirl: Technically I didn't really pretend to kill him off this time. Read my answer to reviewer fan 1-9 to see what I mean.

blah29: I wasn't going to give up because of the reviews. I would have given up if the chapters I'd lost when my PC crashed had been beyond recovery.

maaike-fluffy: Ik weet wat je bedoelt met beschrijvingen, maar om een verhaal dynamisch te houden kun je dat niet al te vaak doen. Volgens mijn novel-writing guide hoeft niet elke kamer waar de personage nog nooit is geweest beschreven te worden, en hoeft de schrijver niet na elke zin de gelaat uitdrukking of houding van de personages te beschrijven. Maar misschien heb ik wat dat betreft iets teveel gecompenseerd en het te karig gemaakt. Maar dat van de side-characters zie ik wel anders. Je kunt niet iedereen een verleden geven, hoe interessant het ze ook maakt. Dat kost gewoon te veel tijd en pagina ruimte die beter besteed kan worden aan de plot en het constant houden van het ritme van het verhaal.

Furioh: Yeah, too bad about Ruskbyte.

Big daddy: Long time no see.

Tigrin-Phoenix: If you want to find out how Wolfe survived, give my challenge your best shot.

Fan 1-9: I deleted most of your reviews since what you did wasn't what I was trying to achieve. It isn't about the number of reviews. But I did keep your review of chapter 2 around, since you made an interesting point in it.

You were absolutely right about what I did. I did drop hints that Wolfe might not survive, and I let your minds do the rest. ;-) I'm sure I would have had everyone fooled if I hadn't pulled any similar stunts before.

Tosca: Convenient that they had the Mind Reader enhancements? Why wouldn't Yamato have equipped his people to the best of his ability? He was trying to do maximum damage!

Amara: I suppose I was a bit desperate.

Lady of Masbolle: Glad you and the others didn't think the Gladiator thing was over the top.

Saint Mike: I see I didn't have you fooled. As for the explanation, if you take part in the challenge…

Nya: Thanks for taking the time to comment.

Theef: That's why I let the bad guys endanger Harry's family instead of Harry himself, because he can't be touched.

battlefield-addict: Sigh Okay, that was not the type of response I was looking for. But I suppose I'll never get more than a one-liner from you, will I?

Lioness-07863: I'm glad you liked it. I wasn't sure how to write three different Wolfes.

Elric Magus: Stay tuned.

Jedibookworm13: Well, the final scene was supposed to convey Wolfe's panic, but not to such an extent that it would feel rushed to the reader. I read it again, and it doesn't feel rushed to me. But that's where opinions always vary. Thanks for sharing it, though.

mrsean: Fortunately Wolfe survived, so I don't have to answer your questions.

Lipton: Thanks for giving your impressions on every chapter. That's very generous of you.

nycgal: Thanks.

lluvatar: I don't suppose you'll ever write more than UPDATE, will you?

Fragarach: Fair enough.

Hootild: Well, if he had died, I would have preferred it to be this way.

The Keymaker: Did you find my reviews helpful?

CatRx: Thank you.

Bluerain22: You're welcome.

Chloe Black: He's not dead. Happy? ;-)

gpbpandoc4: Do me and the other people whose stories you're reading a favour, and stay delurked.

Greasy ox: It isn't about the number of reviews, but about the content. I deleted eight reviews because they didn't have any content, beings merely parts of sentences and serving to raise the number of reviews. But you're not the first to accuse me of peddling for reviews, and you probably won't be the last.

Janus Aran: Actually, no, he can't. Malfoy's duplicates were people he'd absorbed, with life-forces of their own. That's not the case with Wolfe's duplicates. They are self-contained in a way that they simply wink out (and the original isn't affected) when they're hit by a powerful curse, but Wolfe can't pass on any damage he takes.

Shalli: They did say 'strength and honour' in the movie, you know. Thanks for coming out of lurkerdom.