Chapter Fourteen

The Most Important Things

They had always called him weak. From the days as a child to the days when he became a man. They had always mocked him for not being able to do spells correctly or to fight as well as they did. They laughed at him and ignored him, after they had shown him they were stronger than he.

They were all fools, of course. They thought him useless, but who among all of them could dismantle charms and wards faster than he could. Who among them had the intelligence that could comprehend any and every spell ever made? The Great Lord had seen that. He'd seen beyond the thin arms, the inability to use magic correctly. He had seen the intelligence underneath and he had harnessed it. He had challenged him and showed him a world where he could excel.

Power, as in courage and bravery, was a common thing. Everyone had it. Even that idiot, the Iron Duke, was strong and brave. Everyone made a big deal about it, yet it was a characteristic as common as dirt. There were plenty of powerful and brave witches and wizards out there, as in Harry Potter. But what was rarer in the world was intelligence. The ability to think analytically. The ability to understand perfectly and completely. That quality in the world was something to be treasured.

So he sat there as the battle raged around him. As brave and powerful fools grappled one another in a barbaric attempt to show each other up. In acts that any monkey or ape would have understood, for that was how primitive their behavior was. The everlasting need for power and the need to conquer.

He was beyond such petty things. His life was for the challenges. For the puzzles and the riddles, and what lay before him was a tricky one indeed. Something that he hadn't seen in a while, a person who knew how to layer spells, charms, and wards. A person of intelligence. This would be good.

He sat there, unseen and hidden, unraveling spell upon spell. There hadn't been a charm he couldn't break, a spell that couldn't be undone. One by one, weakening it, until at last it came all crumbling down.

He called himself Unseen. Unlike the others, he had no desire to let those that he destroyed see him. He worked from the dark, behind closed doors. Not grunting and sweating in fights. His mind was his weapon and it was far deadlier than any blade or wand made.

"Kill the child." He said. There was a stir and three Feeders rose and entered the now defenseless cottage.

XXX

Lisa Moore fanned herself with a plate and slumped into a lawn chair. She glanced up at the sun that was inching its way toward noon and sighed. The day was cool and bright, but she had to control her breathing and dab at her forehead with a napkin. It may not have been hot but chasing after a dozen screaming children was more than a workout.

"Kids running you bare, dear?" Kenneth Moore, her husband, asked. She would have booted him, if he weren't carrying the large cake. He set it down gently upon a large table and grinned at her.

"Joan should have come." She said for the hundredth time.

Kenneth nodded, adjusting the cake. "As they say, there are three things in life you can't control. Death, taxes, and family."

Lisa rolled her eyes heavenward. "And obviously husbands that make very bad jokes and getting sayings wrong." She added, ignoring the pained look on Kenneth's face. She would have added more, if not for a dozen screaming kids running by.

"Looks like they prefer the pup to the main attraction." Kenneth remarked, gesturing toward the bored looking clown blowing balloons. So far he'd been Just sitting in a lawn chair while the kids were running the grass in their backyard bare.

"They're children." Lisa said more in exasperation. She briefly watched the puppy Angelica had brought go scurrying under a hedge and the children like a band of half starving barbarians gathered around it yelling and screeching for it to come out. "Looks like it's time to rescue the poor thing." Lisa got to her feet to intervene in the harassing of the puppy.

There was a sudden loud smashing sound and Lisa turned to see several huge black armored figures kick down her fence and enter the backyard. The children quieted and as one all turned to look at this new thing. Lisa glanced to Kenneth who was already stalking to the figures, his face redden with fury.

"What the bloody hell are you d-" The words were viciously cut off as what looked to be a sword flashed out and Kenneth slump to the floor, a pool of crimson growing beneath him.

Angelica could only stare uncomprehendingly at the still body of Mr. Moore and the large black figures. Suddenly they moved forward and some part of her knew they were coming for her. Angelica began screaming, just before Lisa Moore began screaming in terror.

XXX

The Marauder's Map had been made by four young boys, who like all young boys loved to cause mischief and pranks. It was more of a toy and a thing to use so that they could not get caught by professors and others as they made their infamous exploits. But as all good ideas, they get co-opted into something they were never intended to be used as. The Marauder's Map showed everyone who was upon the grounds of Hogwarts. In the hands of certain people it could become a weapon.

It could also be used as a means of defense. The Second War had raged outside the walls of Hogwarts. The possibility of attack upon the school grew more and more so as the days passed. The school needed to be defended and the Map was one of the ways that it was. The problem though was there was only one Map to cover the entire school. The problem was solved by two of the most intelligent people in the school, Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. The two of them had managed to take apart the Marauder's Map bit by bit and understand how it was put together. How the spells and charms on it worked and how to duplicate it.

Harry had taken the pains and the effort to understand how it all worked together, a genius of charms and spell work. Several more copies had been made and the used to help in guarding the school from possible invasion. They had proved their worth when Voldemort's wrath had descended upon Hogwarts in those terrible final days.

When the War was over and peace returned, all the maps were destroyed and the original was left with Harry, who had immediately hidden it away. The Map for all it's innocent purpose, could become something terrible in the hands of the right person. But the thought of the Map never left Harry's mind. It was a terrific idea, but limited to Hogwarts.

After several attempts and failures, Harry had managed to create what he called the Book of Names. A simple leather bound book that held the names of all the people that were dearest to him, or those that needed watching. The basis was the same as the Marauder's Map, in that it showed people, but where the Marauder's Map was tied to Hogwarts. The Book of Names was tied to a person.

Wherever that person was, it would show them. No matter how far, no matter where. The person and their location would always be displayed. People in the book had been added with their permission. The book never left Harry's person. As in the Map, in the wrong hands it would be terribly dangerous.

The Knights had vanished from sight. But Harry flipped through the parchment pages of the book, flipping past blank page upon blank page. How many had died? He wondered. How many people he knew? He shook away the thought as he steeled himself and flipped to the pages that held the name of the Dursleys.

Dudley, Joan, and little Vernon. The pages were all blank. Except for one. Angelica. He saw her name among a huddle of others, nearly lost as the names of others gathered close together, and then several others simply marked Dread Knight appeared. The followers of the Iron Duke had given up their names. They were nothing but Dread Knights, through and through.

He watched as the Dread Knights made a beeline toward the bunched names of children. Harry gripped his wand and vanished in a crack.

XXX

"Don't worry, Crooks." Emily whispered, stroking the big cat's ruffled fur. He was alternating between purring happily under her care to anxiously walking back and forth. She continued to pet him, looking at her bedroom door.

She pulled Crookshanks close, wrapping her thin arms around his thick body. Mommy had said to stay in her room. Normally such a thing would have been immediately broken, but Emily sat still. She didn't know what it was, but she could feel it in the air. it was safe in the room and in the room she would stay.

There was a scuffle. The sound of breathing, ugly harsh breathing. Emily crawled toward her bed and pushing the old dollys and toys out of the way. There was scratching upon the door and Emily pulled herself underneath the bed. Crookshanks followed, a low growl coming from him as he eyed the door. Emily pulled him close to her, burying her face into his fur and clenching her eyes tightly closed.

Maybe it wouldn't see her. Maybe it would go away.

"Mommy."

Then the door crashed open in a rain of splinters and Emily began screaming.

XXX

Screaming. It was everywhere.

There was no other sound in the human language, any language for that matter, that could express so many different forms of emotion. It was a simple forcing of air out of your lungs and your mouth, yet it was able to express what a person was feeling without all the intricacy and delicacy that was needed when using words.

Harry considered himself a connoisseur of screams.

His earliest memory was that of his mother's dying scream. A heart wrenching cry of loss, love, and pain. Things since then had not really changed. There was a decade long break where the only screaming was that of anger and frustration. When looking back on those days, Harry thought of them as quiet peaceful days. The only thing to fear was Dudley and that was usually easy to do.

Hogwarts did not only teach him new spells, new ways to do things, it also taught him the wide range of human emotions that could be stuffed into a simple sound. In those halls that rang with centuries of knowledge and learning was where he learned to tell apart the screams of joy and those of pain, rage, fear, and terror. In a place that was supposed to being a child into adulthood, for Harry it was only a place where the screaming never ended.

Everyone closest to him screamed more than once. There were screams of terror from Hermione, screams of loss from Ron, screams of hate from Neville, screams of pain from Luna.

Harry arrived with a sharp crack. The sound of air being displaced and a solid body filling the gap. His green eyes scanned the area, quickly and almost instinctively he moved out of the way of a lumbering sword swing.

The hissing of iron cutting through the air and the flutter of wind in its passing was all Harry noted as a series of fast and brutal spells fired from his wand. They were the Four Hits, a little combination of spells that were used to disorientate an attacker, giving the other person a bit of time to re-orientate and evaluate the situation.

It took only a second for Harry to note several things. One, he was outnumbered ten to one. Two, the area was filled with Muggles, mainly children. Three, the lawn was enclosed and the children were being herded against a far fence, though now the Knights were changing their course. Instead of going after the children they were taking on the new threat that had arrived, swords moving and orders being given.

He didn't see Angelica. Where was she?

A flutter of fear filled him for an instant but he pushed it away. For now he couldn't think on it. There was an enemy that needed facing. Emotion would only cloud him.

For all their mass and their size the Knights moved quickly and nimbly. They lawn was large, but they quickly moved toward him, fanning out and taking advantage of their numerical superiority. The Dread Knight he had attacked when coming, joined their ranks, staggering slightly from the aftereffects of the spells.

Harry stood still waiting for them all to come. They all had to be here. Away from the children, away from Angelica. His eyes scanned the oncoming Knights individually. They all looked the same, big and their faces hidden behind iron helmets. He paused momentarily upon the crimson staining some of the blades they carried. His eyes flickering to several bodies that were lying in a pool of crimson. The blood still bright and fresh.

"You're master is dead." Harry said simply. They were all near now, tensing for an attack. "Now you'll all join him."

They attacked.

XXX

Charms and spells and wards and all that the mind could come up with, protected her home. She had spent hours charting them, she had spent days plotting them out and making them perfect. Yet there was always that thought that someone would come along who was both stronger in magic and more adept at charms than she was. There was always that biting fear that no matter what she did she would not be able to protect the one thing in all the world she loved most.

Harry had been right when he said that bad things always followed him. There had been times when people came looking for him when they were together. People who only wanted to make a name for themselves by killing someone else. How many times Harry had been attacked while they were together was a mystery to Hermione. But more on one occasion did he return injured and bleeding from some simple errand h went on.

Those random attacks had caused her more fear and worry than they did him. Harry seemed to accept it as something to be dealt with, like rain or fog. An annoyance that was occasionally deadly if you weren't careful. For Hermione they were a constant source of sleepless nights. Not from fear of her own hurt, but those of Harry.

When he left so did the attacks. The worry and fear had been shoved aside by the deep sadness at his leaving, the doubts and the questioning as to why he had abandoned her. But when Emily was born they came back in force. Now her worry was not for Harry, but that small, fragile bundle of life.

Enemies lurked everywhere. Even in these so called times of peace, there were dark forces still at worked. Forces that never stopped, that never rested. There would always be those that sought power, those that sought glory, and those that would do anything in their greed. Harry had said those same words only days before he had left, in that anguish tone that reminded her of the darker days at Hogwarts.

She hadn't really understood what he meant by it, in the beginning. The world was safe then, Voldemort had been killed, and there was peace and re-growth all across the land. Yet when Harry had left and soon after stories trickled in that he had been fighting some Dark Lord or Witch somewhere, the reality of the world began to settle in. The world was a dark place. There was always hurt, there was always pain in some corner of the world.

So she began doing what she could to make the life of her child a safe one. The most precious person in her life, she would not grow up to see the horrors her father and mother had seen. She would not carry the scars of death and destruction upon her, she would not carry the burden of knowing that her own actions had killed and let people be killed.

The charms and wards were her best work, layers upon layers that were designed to protect. Some aggressive, others passive, others hidden, and more set as traps. Only with great difficulty would a witch or wizard be able to dismantle them.

That though ran though Hermione's mind as she parried the first spell coming her way. A hot flash of energy designed to kill, then the smell of ozone as it was dissipated, the energies channeled and turned harmless in a quick delicate balance of powers and spells.

As the next wave of power and curse came rushing at her, she wished she had stayed in the cottage. What was she doing? She was not a fighter anymore. Her days had been spent contemplating theories, not fighting against minions of some Dark Lord. Those days had been buried in the past, a chapter of her life she had wished could always remain close.

Yet she fought, old skills rushing back to the front of her mind, unforgotten skills and instincts taking hold and making her move in the old dance of death and power. It all came rushing back, the frantic breathing, the knowledge that the wrong move would kill you, the almost giddy rush of adrenaline that pumped fire through her veins.

Ron moved at her side, fast and unfocused, casting away spells and attacking, a furious assault of curses and spells that sparked, crashed, and verberated in the sir. She could almost feel him beside her, raging like a fire, hot and fierce. She could almost feel his muscles clenching and moving, lightning fast, the power just waiting to be unleashed. Their hearts beat as one, their movements complimented one another, they moved as a single entity.

But something began to nag on Hermione's mind. They were moving away from the cottage as the Red Haired woman began to fall back from their furious assault. Every step they took forward, left the cottage secluded, alone, with Emily by herself.

Then she felt it, the lessening of power. The unraveling of her charms, sliced away as if they were nothing. One by one they came undone, exposing more and more of the house to potential attack.

Fear began to rise in Hermione. "Emily."

Hermione turned and ran, as the last of the protective charms fell away.

"Hermione?" Ron questioned.

XXX

The sword arched downward, hissing through the air. It connected heavily with the grassy lawn, sending a slight vibration through it. Harry moved, wand scrapping across metal and causing the attacker to fall back screaming in agony. The heavy sword fell to the floor, clattering.

Another blade hissed, but Harry was already moving, a bolt of condensed blue flashing and dropping another attacker in a heartbeat.

Blood pounded in his ears, a deafening drumbeat that almost blocked out the screaming of agony and the clanking of heavy metal moving faster than it was designed to. Harry struck out, a dazzling flash of green and another Knight dropped, motionless and still, no noise.

He ducked a stab, wand grazing the glittering steel and instantly making it turn red. The Knight screamed, falling to the ground, the stench of burned grass and flesh filling the air.

Something heavy clipped him, knocking the breath out of him and throwing him to the ground. He immediately rolled out of the way, a sword descending where he was moments before. Harry snapped out, a wave of light slashing the sword and cutting in half. The Knight staggered back off balance, then a blast of blue hit him and he too fell to the floor motionless.

Only seconds had passed, a dizzyingly series of moments that left half the Knights dead upon the grass. The remaining five backed up, giving each other room and preparing for a charge. Caution was etched in every line of their form. Caution and fear.

Harry brushed a hand down the front of his coat, leaves and damp grass falling away. He glanced quickly behind him, seeing the huddling children. Seeing Angelica's pale face among them. It was time to end this.

The Knights moved, ready to attack.

"Inferno." Harry whispered.

There was no time to scream, no time to react, one moment they were preparing for an attack, the next they toppled to the floor, smoke rising form the creases of their armor. The stench of charred flesh in the air. Harry watched them for a moment, feeling his breathing returning to normal and his heart slowing. His face an expressionless mask.

"Uncle Harry!" A shrill voice screamed.

Harry turned immediately and scooped up the small frame that threw herself at him, her tears suddenly hot against his cheek and the sobs already pouring out. Shaking her slight shoulders. She was alive. She was safe.

"Shhh… Don't worry. We're going somewhere safe." Harry whispered and then vanished with a loud crack.

Silence fell upon the lawn, wide young eyes staring at the crimson stained grass and the iron forms.

XXX

There was screaming.

Hermione saw the beast, a ungodly creature made of nightmares and reeking of death. Without though she attacked it, a flash of overly brilliant light and the beast cried out, staggering to the floor and going limp.

"Emily!" Hermione cried frantically.

"Mommy!" Emily's voice.

Relief, sweet and powerful filled her as she burst into the room. She saw the small pale hands waving from beneath her bed, with tears of joyous relief stinging her eyes, she ran to her.

She struck something hard and sharp.

Confusion flooded her for a brief moment, what had she hit? Her sight could see nothing before her, but yet something caused her to fall back, nearly crashing onto the beast she had just recently dispatched.

Confusion and then pain. Searing hot and agonizing. Hermione clutched at herself and felt something hot and sticky running through her fingers. Pulling them back she saw her hand covered in crimson.

Emily's screaming shook her out of the shock that was beginning to fog her mind. She looked up and saw a blade descending..