Disclaimer: See Chapter I
Also, I'd like to thank those of you who have taken some time to read and review my work (you know who you are). Your kind words have been felt and hope the wait hasn't been too long for this next installment as I'm trying to update my work every three chapters or roughly once every ten days. One final bit of thanks to the Harry Potter Lexicon that is quite the resource for anything Harry Potter related.
One final note: if anyone reading this is also a fan artist, please feel free to draw any character from this work in any way you feel like going at it. Just make sure you drop a review telling where the image can be viewed.
Anyhow, without further trouble, the next chapter.
Chapter XXII: The Conference
Harry and Ginny were lying down in their usual spot under the oak tree, Harry's black cloak covered them from the chilly weather. Ginny was playing with Harry's ears, and talking of the week's Quidditch game, and Ron's role in it. With his head resting on a leg of the tree, Harry contented himself with thinking, and enjoying the pleasure of Ginny's company.
The week of Colin's clap and the meet with Remus and Sirius had seen the first Quidditch games as well, which had gone badly for Gryffindor. Harry's points about putting Ron as captain and Doc were primarily hit, but a bit of miss as well. Did Ron know how to get the various elements of a team to score goals? Yes, he did, with three chasers, and two beaters that were the best in the school; they had racked up several high scores in the two games of the week. Was Doc a good replacement for Harry as Seeker? Damn right, as Doc had taken some unbelievable punishment (example: getting slammed by two bludgers in the chest and back and thus cracking three ribs and still going on to get the snitch) Was Ron a capable keeper? Sadly, the answer was no. True, he had looked impressive the times he had played with Harry and the twins over the summer, but on the pitch, he had lost as many as he saved. Harry had the sneaky idea Ron was suffering from a bit of stage fright, and that time would cure him of it.
Yet, until then several of the games were cut really close, almost too close for comfort.
Ginny was laughing about it when Harry turned his head, leaned forward, and kissed her, his tongue gently probing, on a spot behind her left earlobe, close to where it connected with the face. Harry had found out during one of their previous sessions that Ginny was very ticklish there, and at another spot on the nape of her neck, and was delighted to find Ginny start laughing. She turned, and kissed him on his mouth, and two of them hungrily kissed and held each other for a few minutes. Harry, without thinking of it, moved his hand under Ginny's sweater and was cupping a breast when he felt her stiffen. It was only then he realized what he was doing, and sheepishly apologized to Ginny. Ginny, breathless, waved it off, and smirked, "I take it you were popular with those girls you had over the summer, eh?" She laughed as she saw in the moonlight squirm with discomfort.
Harry looked down at her, and said, "I hope you were enjoying it as much as I was?" Ginny laughing, nodded, and told him a little of the VD talk that had been given the girls. Apparently, Madam Hooch, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey had held the talk, and the 'talk' had been comical to say the least. Harry laughed with Ginny as he couldn't picture any of them as younger, desirable women as McGonagall was quoted as saying, "Ladies, your virginity is something that once it is gone, it is gone forever, so be sure to save it for when you are married." McGonagall, not to mention the other two, had been very silent though when Susan Bones from Hufflepuff had asked the three teachers of their first time. They had also been almost laughed out of the Hall when Hermione Granger had pointed out none of the three were married, or were they since Madame Pomfrey had just given a rather detailed description of the male reproductive system, and Madame Hooch and McGonagall a serious talk on habits of men? According to Ginny, all three looked absolutely drained of emotion when that question had been brought up.
Ginny had laughed as she told the story, ending, "Nothing my mother didn't tell me of over the years." Harry smiled, and drew Ginny closer to him, and he murmured, "I love you."
"I love you, too, Harry."
Harry held her close, and watched the waves on the lake. Ginny asked him softly, "You busy this weekend?" Harry thought and shook his head, "Probably not, but with Mad-Eye and my uncle…" He shrugged, and asked her, "Do you get angry sometimes, Gin, with the way things are between us?"
She looked up at him, and answered, "I knew things would be like this. You know what? I don't care, all I know is I love you and nothing can change that. This secrecy, I know that is why you love me, that you care for me so…" Harry stopped her with a kiss, though he was thinking of what she was saying.
With the nightly lessons of S.E.R.E. and Occlumency, Harry and Ginny were having a hard time finding time for them in secret, but as Ginny pointed out, she had known this could be the case and wasn't complaining. Harry wasn't, though he did feel guilty since he felt he was getting the greater share out of their relationship while Ginny was getting the short end of the stick. Still, what time the two of them could find, both time enjoyed each other, their relationship going at a slow, comfortable pace for both of them, tonight being an example.
Holding on to each other tightly, the couple kissed, and murmured endearments beneath the tree, as the stars above glittered.
* * *
Harry's hopes for a quiet weekend were shattered the next morning during the security briefing as Alex and told him, "Harry, pack about a couple days worth of clothes. We're going to go to London for the weekend. Should be back by Sunday night though, as we leave tonight before dinner." Giving Harry a small black suitcase, Alex explained there was an operation going down that required his and Moody's presence down south, and Alex wanted Harry to ride shotgun with it. Harry nodded stiffly as he had heard this line before, and before probably would be rejoicing in it. Now, though…
Going up to his room, he hurriedly packed, and went through his classes only half paying attention (which was regular since it was Herbology, Divination, and Charms that day, and Harry only made a half-hearted attempt to pay attention in Charms). At lunch, he had broken the bad news to his friends; all of them had been disappointed that Harry wasn't going into Hogsmeade with them. Harry had looked closely as he could without being noticed to Ginny, and could see that she was disappointed. Looking at her, Harry wanted nothing more then to take her in his arms, or to get down on his knees and apologize. But had held back from showing too much emotion, as he knew full well that once any of the student body knew, then it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort knew and once that happened…
Before dinner, with everyone down eating dinner, Harry had gone up into the room, and pulled out his Browning in its cross-draw holster, and the vest. Putting it on, Harry felt depressed, and saddened. Buttoning up his shirt, he almost choked himself with his tie, and was swearing foully at it, venting his irritation, when he heard a small laugh behind him. Turning, he saw Ginny standing there, and his voice died out. Ginny literally took his breath away, even dressed in the unflattering school uniform. To Harry, Ginny could probably wear a potato sack and make it look it beautiful.
She was carry a small paper bag, and set it down at the on Harry's trunk as she went up and straightened his tie once again. With a smile, she said, "It looks like this will be a new job for me, huh? Harry, I made a couple of sandwiches and there is a small jug of hot choc…" She was cut off as Harry leaned forward and kissed her, tasting the pumpkin juice and chocolate she had had for desert after dinner. They stood like that; Ginny with her hands on his tie, Harry with one hand on his tie, the other behind Ginny's neck.
Realizing just how vulnerable they were to discovery, Harry gently broke away and said, "I'm sorry, Ginny, but…" "Harry, it's all right." Ginny ran a finger along Harry's jaw and touched his lips. She grinned, "No regrets, Harry, this is a dream come true." In a gesture that surprised him, she took a hand from his tie and placed it over his heart. There he felt her heart beat, and, just as important to a virile fifteen-year old teenage boy, the warmth of her breast.
Harry leaned over and kissed her one more time. Still realizing the time, he broke away and said, "Listen, I should be able to see you Sunday night. Say, nine o'clock at Buck's?" Ginny was all smiles, "It's a date."
With that she gave one last hug and left the room. Harry looked around his room one last time and was about to leave when he took one last look at the picture that he kept of him and Ginny in the corner of his trunk. Closing the trunk, he sighed, put on his weapons holster, and went out of the room.
* * *
Going to the front door with his suitcase, Harry ran into Moody and Alex, who were waiting patiently for him with packed suitcases. "Ready, lad?" Alex asked quickly. Harry nodded, and following the two older Aurors walked with them down the path from the school to the front gates. Ron, Hermione, Doc, Katrina and Neville came to see him off. Harry grinned and told them he should be back by Monday morning for breakfast and classes.
They waved goodbye as a Moody opened the door to what looked like a regular blue, BMW sedan. Inside, though, Harry discovered it was magically modified so that it was spacious enough for all three of them to sit and have plenty of legroom. Two goblins wearing the uniform of Bladvak's regiment were in the driver's and shotgun seats, the one riding shotgun armed with what looked an old, short, sawed off shotgun, the other a wicked looking hatchet in his belt.
As soon they had entered, the goblins switched on an invisibility generator (much like the kind Mr. Weasley had put on the Ford Anglia that was now roaming the Forbidden Forest), for Harry saw their image vanish from the reflection off of the highly polished surface of the wooden doors, and rise from the grounds like a helicopter. Harry was surprised, for while he remembered advising the dwarves earlier in the year of the advantages of aerial surveillance, he hadn't seen one of the aerial vehicles at their disposal. Moody must have seen his astonishment, for he began chuckling, "We talked to Arthur about how he modified that Ford Anglia, and we modded a couple of these we bought on the muggle black market. Useful, yes?" Harry nodded, and watched outside.
The goblins were flying the way the he had seen in old Vietnam War movies: treetop level, balls to the wall speed. Harry only hoped the guy at the wheel had nerves of steel, for the way he was going (Harry could swore he saw an owl crap itself in its nest as they narrowly missed it), it would be a minor miracle if they made it to London in one piece. Moody, with his regular eye closed and the magical one looking around the car, seemed to be dozing while Alex seemed to be watching Harry with an amused expression. Harry, not wanting his uncle to think him shook up by the wild ride they were on, asked him, "I take it this isn't the first time you've been on a ride like this?" Alex shook his head, "Na, back in the Paras we practiced as much with choppers as parachutes. Ever seen a combat landing at night, whilst under fire?" Harry's uncle was grinning feral, a challenge evident in his tone. Taking it, Harry asked, "Under fire, when?" Alex shrugged, "First time I was back after the hospital, 2nd Para was in Belize in on training deployment when these communist guerillas in Guatemala were found to be setting up a small base on our side of the border." He smiled wickedly, "So, we moved in, one company riding in these Pumas we had. My company. God it was a sight to remember…They must have heard us for they opened up on us with light and medium machine gun fire, the tracers shooting at us like something out of fucking Star Wars. I mean, it was like the greatest bit of sex and all the greatest fucking fear you have ever had all rolled into one and shoved down your gullet…"
Alex had that far-off look in his eyes that Harry had seen before as he related his war stories. "You're scared, and so is your mates next to you, all of you screaming your guts out as you see the landing zone approach, and you jump off as the chopper as it hovers for about a second or two three feet above the earth and soon you and your mates are firing and shouting and you got a grand old firefight on you hands." Alex started talking of the running gun battle they had had in the jungle. Harry, despite having been there and done that before, nonetheless listened to the story of battle in a distant land.
After what seemed an eternity, Alex shook his head and brought himself back to earth for he continued, "Tom Williamson took a round through the head, and was killed instantly, and we had a few more lads get hit a bit, but we bagged about thirty of the bastards dead, and captured about ten more. Piss pot of munitions, too." Staring at Harry, he asked him, "Know what we did with those fucks we captured lad?"
"What?"
"Turned them over to the Guatemalans on the border. And can't say I care what they did with them afterwards. Heard later, though, the Guatemalans buried them alive." He fixed Harry with a stare.
"Think that makes me evil, lad?"
"Well, I mean…"
"Lad, you think of the first man you killed?"
"That Irishman in Wales? Not much, I mean, he was trying to
kill me, and if I hadn't then…"
"No, your first one…Quirrel, in your first year at Hogwarts."
Harry had to think of that for a moment, something that he (surprisingly enough) hadn't done before. When he was younger, the idea he had killed had eluded him until Alex had brought it up. As for the Irish terrorists, Harry had been half scared and half crazed by the adrenaline so that his training and the survivalist instincts all humans have buried beneath the social chains came forth when he had been in the firefight, and all Harry knew was he killed at least two men, and didn't feel a damn thing about it.
Did he feel guilt over killing Quirrel? A bit for the man had seemed quite decent, but what other alternatives had Harry had? Quirrel was under the dominion of Voldemort, and had the son of a bitch gotten his hands on the Philosopher's Stone back then, then his return would have happened a good three years earlier, and odds were, Harry would be dead and buried somewhere within Hogwarts.
Harry was still debating when Alex answered for him, "It couldn't be helped, so just be bloody grateful you are alive and breathing, while the other bastard is dead. With the war that is brewing, the odds of any of us coming out this one alive are slim at best, and coming out unscathed is non-existent."
Finding the topic uncomfortable to say the least, Harry asked, "Where are we going uncle?"
Moody answered for him, "Headquarters for the Order. I'd sooner you not know where it is due to the risk factor, but since practically everyone we know has already been there once before, and since Dumbledore's the Secret Keeper and can do what he wants with it…" Digging into the traveling cloak he had on, he pulled forth a small slip of paper and ordered Harry to memorize it. Reading it, Harry saw it was directions to a street in a very shabby section of London. There was but thing that struck Harry about it: the name of the address: Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Moody took it away and incinerated it.
Harry was about ask where that was when he noticed that they were no longer flying over countryside, but were instead over city streets and buildings. In the distance, Harry could make the clock face of Big Ben and several of the London bridges. He was impressed at the speed at they were traveling at (no more then an hour had passed on what usually was a trip that lasted at least four hours), and watched as they soon were flying over a really slum looking region of London.
In a minute, the goblin driver had the car hovering over an empty alley, and set it down there. Once on the ground, they deactivated the invisibility generator and were moving at a normal speed down the streets, stopping in front of a row of grimy, dirty buildings. Looking outside, Harry could see what looked a pile of used rubbers, empty needles, and dog-shit lying near an open square near the houses.
Moody and Alex, seated on opposite sides of Harry, rolled down the windows and looked outside. Harry could smell a strange, herb like odor in the air along with the usual of exhaust, trash, and sewage. "Clear" Moody growled, followed shortly by the same from Alex. With rapid speed, they opened both doors at once, slammed them shut and dashed out across the streets, staying close to the sides of the buildings, and scanning with both of their eyes the immediate area. Harry had to spend a moment marveling at how fast one man with a steel kneecap and six pins in the other, while the other man had a wooden leg, could move so quickly.
After a moment, Alex motioned to Harry to get his and their bags and join him in front of the space between two grungy houses. Harry did so without grumbling out loud, though part of him, was wondering if they had gone through the whole routine just so he could carry his and their luggage; he also didn't think it a good sign that the neighborhood he was in was so bad the street lights looked as though they had been stripped of the bulbs. As Harry did so, Moody came, up and slapped the roof of the car. Without another command, the blue BMW took off at top speed down the road as Harry moved up to Alex. Alex led him between the two houses, one was marked 11 and the other 13. Harry wondered just what he was playing at when Alex knocked on the wall and a house appeared, with the number 12 above the door.
Alex opened it and pulled Harry, whilst Moody all but shoved, him through the door. Inside, Harry found himself facing a long row of what looked like…Shit, those are elves! Harry thought. Indeed, he was greeted by a long row of desiccated heads, mounted in a parody of hunting trophies. What disturbed Harry, though, was the fact several of the house-elves seemed to have been blissfully happy in their moment of death. Looking around, Harry saw he was that there was very little light and that Alex was calling out as soon as the door closed, "Padfoot, get some damn light in here, man!" Afterwards, Sirius Black came from one of the side hallways, and with his wand started lighting a series of what looked like old, Victorian era gas lamps. Sirius didn't look too happy, but a smile came to his face when he saw Harry and called out somewhat cheerfully. "Hey, Harry!" Turning to Alex, he asked, "So when's the conference?" Alex shook his head, "Not yet, first we need to move our kit and then we need a bit to eat." Looking around, Alex sniffed the air, "Bit dusty isn't it?"
Sirius grimaced, "Yeah, it is. Been here on and off since the summer, and I still wise Dumbledore had chosen a better spot but…" He turned and bellowed, "KREACHER!" Looking around, he bellowed the name out a few more times before he turned in disgust and told his guests, "I don't know where that damn elf is…more then likely sifting through the trash I was storing in the attic!" This last perked Alex up for he asked, "Is that portrait of your mother still up?" Sirius shrugged, "Yeah, but I got it covered so…" He didn't finish as Alex bolted down the hall for parts unknown. Sirius ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair and swore. Moody seemed amused as he asked, "Know where we can ditch our kit and eat? I'm starved." Nodding, Sirius led them through hallway to a pair of rooms close to a large kitchen, the door of which was open. Upstairs, Harry could hear the sound of a woman screaming in rage whilst over it was the booming sound of Alex's laughter. Part of him was curious, but the other part wasn't so, he followed Sirius and dumped his suitcase on top of one of the beds in the room. Opening one of the side pouches, he removed the bag containing the sandwiches and drink, and set it on top of one of the beds.
Moody took a look around and grunted, "A mitt dusty, but serviceable." Harry had to kill a laugh as the room was almost like the flophouse above the Hog's Head: bare bones in other words. Moody pulled his wand out, checked it, and put it back into a pocket in his jacket. For reasons Harry didn't know, all three of them were dressed in business suits, and Moody asked Harry, "Your kit good?" Harry nodded, and moved his jacket to the side, showing the Browning he had holstered there. Moody grimaced, "Your wand, Mr. Potter?" Harry held up his palm and Moody nodded in approval.
Amongst the various things taught in the Dueling and Muggle Self-Defense Club had been a way to use firearms and wands, if not simultaneously, then at least quickly after the other. The obvious problem was that one couldn't use anything bigger then a pistol if one wanted to use a wand or least have it close at hand. Alex's solution had been simple, and had required very little getting used to and training: using a group of rubber bands, the wand would be placed on the subject's shooting hand, or rather on the wrist and lower portion of the forearm. Since the shooting hand was often the same one used by most people for wand usage, it was a matter of training to get used to having the tip of the wand rubber banded to the palm of the shooting hand.
Harry, with a score out of 290 out of 300 on the shooting range, required very little retraining in how to shoot with either side or long arm with his wand banded to his wrist.
* * *
Moody nodded in approval and, after ordering him to carry it in his pocket since he didn't have anything bigger on him then a pistol, told him, "Come, and let's see if Sirius can scare us up some food." Harry didn't have much confidence in getting anything, so he picked up his bag of food Ginny had prepared for him, as he had a sneaky suspicion that Sirius wouldn't have much. This proved to be the case, as Alex was digging through the cupboards, whilst Sirius watched amused. "So you mean you don't have a goddamn thing in this place?" Sirius shrugged, "Remus, Tonks, or someone usually bring in a day's worth of food, saves having to move in a lot of groceries, but Lupin over slept and forgot or something." Moody grimaced, "So you mean we should have made the trip after dinner?"
Harry decided now was a good time to bring out his sandwiches. Clearing his throat, he held up his bag of sandwiches and spread them out on the table in the kitchen. Ginny, bless her, had packed four sandwiches of corned beef with mustard on rye, and Moody (after sniffing it and peering at it intently with his magical eye) declared it one of the best he had ever tasted. Alex, munching on it with a small tea cup of the hot chocolate that Harry had packed with him, asked Harry point blank, "So, what young lady made these tasty sandwiches?" He was grinning as he said it.
Harry almost choked on the cup he was sipping, and said, "What makes you think it was a girl?" Holding up the sandwich, Alex explained, "Simple, it really does matter if someone puts a lot of effort into something like a meal. You can literally taste the difference." Biting into, he chewed slowly, and started talking, "Hmm… my guess is someone your age, give or take a year…your house… very pleasing to look at…" Harry decided to stop the game before he started making dangerous guesses. "All right, there's a girl I'm seeing regular, but with the ways things are, no one besides me knows who she is. Remus and Sirius know I'm seeing someone, but that's it, no other details. I don't want her to be burned because of me." Alex seemed to be lost in his mind as Harry said that, and it was Moody who spoke first, in a voice full of emotion. "Wise thinking, lad, wise indeed…" With that, Moody got up and said, "Harry, tell your lady I appreciated the sandwich. Try to get some sleep, as tomorrow will be a busy one. Also, try not to wrinkle your suit, you'll be needing it." After telling them he would be checking the perimeter before retiring, Moody stumped off.
Harry was curious and asked Sirius why Moody got emotional over the talk of women. Sirius shrugged, "Moody's been an Auror so long, and seen so much…You know back in the war against Grindewald, during the Second World War to muggles, Moody was just badged as an Auror and engaged to this one girl in France?" Harry shook his head, and asked, "What happened to the girl?" Alex answered, "She stayed behind in Paris around 1940, when Grindewald was just starting to gain power as the Germans rolled in. Moody's lady wanted to try and infiltrate Grindewald's group, to gain information. Grindewald found out and well…" Alex shrugged, "Moody's hated the dark side since, though he didn't start getting paranoid until the last war when that moron Fudge allowed those bastards to get away."
Alex looked off into the distance, "That's war though…we all lose someone dear to us…" He turned to Harry, "Get some sleep lad, the next couple of days will be busy."
* * *
The next morning Harry awoke around five in the morning to find him alone in the bedroom. Alex, with whom he shared the room, was nowhere in sight. Yawning, Harry got up and looked through the small suitcase he carried for a towel and his shower when he remembered that he didn't have a clue where it was. So, barefoot and wearing a pair of olive drab boxers and t-shirt (underwear he had kept from his cadet uniform; after the summer, he had weaned himself away from pajamas and slept either in his boxers and t-shirt, or naked dependant on where he was sleeping) and with shower bag in hand, he went out to the kitchen, hoping to ask Sirius where the bathroom was.
Entering, he saw Sirius was relaxing at a table having a cup of tea whilst Moody was at a stove, looking none too happy as he fried several eggs. "Morning, Harry." Moody growled without looking at him, his normal eye still on the pan. Sirius waved at him and told him where to find the bathroom. Harry nodded, and went to the bathroom, and found it to be quite like any muggle one with a sink, toilet, tub and shower assembly. Turning on the water, Harry took a minute to strip and wash, and then started thinking things through. What the hell was going on? Why was the headquarters of an organization dedicated to fighting the Death Eaters in place as though it were straight from Death Eater Weekly? Just why the hell was he spending a weekend away from his girl?
Harry laughed at this for, they had been going out what…under ten days? Yet, truth be told, Harry was content with that, as his clinical, and quite probably cynical eye, found all other girls besides Ginny to be well…plain and unattractive. True, as a man he noticed the curve of another woman, or a great rack from time to time, but Harry was content basking at night with Ginny, and know that he loved, was loved in return by, the most beautiful girl in the school.
That rather happy train of thought as the door to the bathroom slammed open. Harry, shampoo in his hair, grabbed a bar of soap intending on throwing at whoever it was when he saw that it was a really old, ragged looking house-elf. Judging by the harsh, rather squat features of it (not to mention the lack of breasts) Harry assumed it was male. This was confirmed as the elf muttered, "Filthy scum. Worthless mudblood. Oh how the old mistress would hate this! Her worthless pathetic son bringing in a filthy brat to foul her washroom." Without so much as a look the elf stomped off out of the bathroom, still muttering. Harry was so stunned by this whole incident, and it wasn't until Sirius came out of the kitchen that Harry realized he was still naked and supposed to be washing.
Sirius looked over, laughed, and said, "What you doing? Posing for Playgirl?" Harry shook his head and rinsed his head. Still washing, he motioned for Sirius to sit down and told him, "Close the door, it's bloody freezing." Sirius did so and looked over at Harry, and laughed. Harry scowled, "What's so damn funny?"
Shaking his head, Sirius explained, "Remembering this time I was helping Prongs wash you as Lilly had to go buy some groceries and it was your dad's day off from the Ministry. You were about…" He looked at the ceiling, and cocked his head. "Six months? Maybe a month or two give or take, but anyhow, I was sitting down talking with your dad as he was washing you in this little pink baby tub. You know, the ones about as deep as a small bucket? And you're splashing away, having a grand time. Anyhow, after he's done rinsing you off, and is about to pull you of the tub when you…" Sirius started giggling, "You took a piss on his shirt, and James is upset because he was supposed to go the office again later that night. So, he puts you back in the tub, rinsing you off one more time when you start splashing water all over the place. James was a bit miffed so he threw some water on me, because I was laughing with you and soon we are all soaked and throwing water at each other when your mother comes in, and she is mad at what happens, she promptly takes you away, and starts yelling at me and your dad. Know what you do then?"
Harry had finished, dried off, and was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and asked, delighted inwardly hearing an account of his early childhood, "What?" Sirius started laughing raucously, "Since your mom had been breastfeeding you, the first thing you do while you're held to her chest is start pulling down the front of her blouse, and is soon trying to get your meal through one of her bras. Whole time she was yelling at us, I was laughing at the whole scene; your dad was laughing, and giving me the gimlet eye for looking at Lilly's tits." Harry laughed too, and answered, "As he should of…Staring at your best friend's wife's tits."
Getting serious, Harry asked, "Sirius, do you have a house elf?" Sirius scowled, "Yes, belongs to my family. Name of Kreacher. He's worked for my family, and in this damn house my whole life and then some." Harry got off of the tub and pulled on a clean pair of OD boxers, and asked, "This house belongs to your family?" Sirius nodded grimly, "Aye, the humble abode of my childhood." Harry was surprised at this, for he had seen the mounted heads, and the large number of serpentine figures in the house, and his consternation must have been evident for Sirius told him to go and get dressed, and then he would explain.
Go to his room, Harry put on his suit, but left the tie off for the moment, and went back to talk to his godfather. Sirius was waiting for him outside his room and explained. The house of Black was an ancient pure blood family. While they weren't direct supporters of Voldemort, they had sympathized with the concept of keeping the bloodlines pure. Sirius showed Harry, in a small tour of the house, a tapestry showing the bloodline of his house, apparently all the pureblood families being connected in one way or the other. Harry saw that the place where Sirius's name should have been was burned out. Mother Black had torched it the day she had heard of him being inducted into Gryffindor house.
Sirius showed him also the maniacal portrait of his mother, and it was still screaming obscenities as he led him back down the stairs, calling Sirius a disgrace amongst various niceties. He told Harry of how his brother Regulus had been the pride of the family, and got himself killed by a group of Aurors.
Harry hadn't known what to say and tried to change the topic to something happy, and talked for a few minutes about how he and Ginny were doing, though he didn't mention her name. Sirius seemed to brighten as he listened to Harry extol the merits of his girl, and how happy he was sneaking through the halls to their trysts. "Harry," Sirius asked as they moved through the dark halls of the Black house, "have you and your girl gotten…intimate yet?" Harry flushed slightly, "No, and I'm not pushing her. I'm happy just being with her, though it is bloody torture during the daytime making it look as though nothing is happening between us."
Sirius smiled, "Enjoy what you can, while you can Harry. Course you probably heard that before. Heaven knows happiness can evaporate in a heartbeat."
"Did you ever, you know, have a girl you were serious about?"
Sirius paused and looked at Harry for a moment, and then sighed. Nodding his head briefly, he spoke, "Indeed, she was a woman three years my junior who worked in the Ministry. We were going steady when…" He shrugged, "She took an assignment in Russia, and just vanished about six months before your mother and father were killed. I don't know her assignment as she had taken a job with the Intelligence section of the Department of Mysteries, and well…" Sirius didn't finish the thought, and together they went into the kitchen, where Moody and Alex had been joined by another group of wizards. Harry recognized one of them as Remus Lupin, who waved and introduced him to the group.
Mudungus Fletcher, a dodgy, pudgy character who bore the sad expression of a basset hound, the Order's shaker and mover with the underworld elements of the wizard underworld. As Alex put it succulently, "A man with every one of his fingers and toes in as many pies."
Kingsley Shacklebolt, a lean, muscular, black man with a gold earring, he was a high-ranking member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement who wore the rosette, and crossed dagger and wand of a badged Auror. He had been a member of the Order since the earliest days during the 1970s and according to Alex, was the man in charge of hunting Sirius Black. Which was why the hunt was centered on Central Asia; Black's location somewhere on the Indian-Afghan-Tibet border….
Dedalus Diggle, an older grizzled Auror who had been in the Auror's Division with along Moody during the Grindelwald days. Harry had met him before when he was younger and Dedalus was delighted Harry remembered him.
Finally, there was a tall, lithe witch who looked like she was in her twenties. Harry looked at her in appreciation, for while everyone else was dressed in suits and ties, the witch, who introduced herself to Harry as Nymphadora Tonks, or just Tonks, ("Nymphomaniac?" Alex had asked innocently, to be given a dagger stare by Tonks), was dressed in jeans, an orange sweatshirt with the Puddlemere United logo on it, and had a hairstyle of grape juice purple, which she changed to bubblegum pink and then back again with a couple of waves of her head. She was Kingsley's partner, and while she was too young to have fought in the last war, she had served capably and well as one of the few new Aurors recruited in the last three years. Needless to say, she held Dumbledore in high enough regard to go and work for him. Harry was glad for that he could tell she would be dangerous in a fight by the light, springing step and the confidant way she moved.
After the introductions were made, Moody got right down to business. "Right, the operation is simple and straightforward. Since everything's been done in house and we all know whom the mole, or should I say rat was from the last war, there shouldn't be any drama. We rendezvous with the VIP as he apparates behind Nelson's statue in Trafalgar Square. Since the area is largely a refuse area, he shouldn't be spotted by any muggles…" He discussed the routines involving three Ministry vehicles that were being used just for the occasion and security arrangements outside of a hotel where the main portion of the operation would be going down for the next several days.
"Now…Yes, Harry?"
"Sir, just what is our operation?"
"We will be providing protection for an emissary from the Order who will be meeting with approximately fifteen other people in a muggle hotel. Myself, you, and Alex will be providing personal escort for the VIP during the meeting." Moody continued on with the briefing, leaving Harry with more questions then answers.
* * *
An hour later, Harry found himself bundled up in his trench coat sipping a hot, though piss-poor, cup of coffee with Alex. The two of them were walking around the front of Trafalgar square, Alex talking to him of British military history. Moody was sitting on a bench reading a copy of The Times. "So lad, what do you think was going through the minds of the men of the 66th at Maiwand as they ran out of ammunition, and wound up fighting an enemy that outnumbered them with rifle butts and bayonets?" Alex had been telling him of a fight in Afghanistan that saw a regiment overrun, it's colors taken, and a small group of survivors in a square facing down an enemy that outnumbered them ridiculously. Harry shrugged, "They held, they probably knew that they were doomed, and couldn't have cared any less." Alex sipped his coffee, nodding. "True, but there is one factor you forget…when they saw their regimental colors taken they probably had no illusions to their fate. Yet they still fought, so the stragglers would have a decent chance at living, and," Alex grinned malevolently, "to ensure the Afghans paid as high a price as possible for the privilege of killing them."
Harry pondered this, but his thoughts were cut short as he heard the distinct popping sounds of a person using the Apparation spell. Alex clapped him on the shoulder, and told him, "Let's move." Walking slowly, the two of them turn around the statue, and saw that it was Arthur Weasley, dressed in a plaid suit tan overcoat. Quickly, they moved to either side of him, as Moody took the front and led them to a black Mercedes Benz. Arthur nodded to them, and got in, followed by Harry and Alex as Moody rode shotgun while Mudungus drove. Without looking, Harry knew that there was a tan Ford Fiesta with Remus Lupin and Dedalus Diggle trailing.
It wasn't until the doors were closed, the windows up, and they were moving did Arthur turn to Alex and Harry (Alex on the right, Harry on the left side of Arthur), smile, and greet them. "Hello Harry, Alex. Didn't expect you to see you here." Harry shrugged, "My uncle wanted me along for this one. How's the family, sir?"
"Oh, Charlie is doing all right working in Wales with the Dragons, while Bill is dating that French student, Fleur, was it?"
Harry laughed, "Indeed, sir? That's good news, and Per…" He stopped himself, for he remembered that Percy, with his usual sycophantic style was working with Amos Diggory in the 'investigation' of the Triwizard Tournament.
Arthur must have understood the unspoken question for he continued, "Molly is all right, and Percy seems to be enjoying his work as one of Fudge's hatchet men along with Diggory. Aye, those two and that human tapeworm Dolores Umbridge."
"Who's that, sir?"
Arthur shrugged, "Undersecretary to Fudge. She's basically in charge of any and all dealings that would silence dissidents of Fudge. Her reach is quite extensive, as I know my office has twice been audited this year, and as have the Auror's Division, and any other section that could be used to fight You-Know-Who when the time comes. Hypocritical bastard claims everything is fine, but he's been using the Terrorism, and Official Secrets Acts as much now as old Appscott did during the height of the last war."
Harry was silent for a minute, and decided to get back to the mission at hand. "Sir, just what are you going to be doing today? Why the cloak and dagger and protective detail, sir?"
Arthur grimaced, "I'll be meeting with representatives of fifteen of the more powerful magical governments. You see, Fudge doesn't realize that You-Know-Who could be drawing support from abroad, and that we'll need to fight him the way Grindewald was fought: with the combined might of as many nations and people as can be mustered. While Fudge may not consider Dumbledore's word very much, others aren't so sure and at the very least are willing to investigate further."
Moody turned back, "Approaching the meeting site, Arthur. Get ready as we're doing this as quickly as…" He stopped and put a finger to his ear, nodded briefly, then spoke into his shirt cuff, "Understood, Pupil out." Everyone was equipped with Auror Comm sets, but Moody had ordered them turned off to prevent them being located by Ministry communications interception units. The only ones being used were by Moody, Shacklebolt, and Tonks, since the last two were Aurors and weren't likely to be noticed, while Moody was…well, Moody, and apparently one of the first things Fudge had ordered was that anything in regards to Moody was to be ignored. Which was all to their advantage…
"Arthur, we're going to have go in via the service entrance beneath the Marriot. Tonks told me she saw a watcher element that belongs to the Ministry camped out near the front entrance." Alex swore and said, "I thought we had this operation secure from our end?" Moody shrugged, "I think even though Arthur may have lost any contacts, they probably had tails out on Tonks as well considering she's a half and half. Christ knows Umberidge would suspect her over something like that, and we're lucky that I had her file a fake report about having to stakeout the place."
A couple more minutes passed as Fletcher took a side street and went down a tunnel before parking in front of an underground elevator. "Out" Moody ordered as Fletcher brought it to a stop in front of an elevator. Harry got out and scanned the area, seeing nothing but a large underground parking lot. Arthur and Alex got out of the other side, and were followed shortly by Moody. The trail car pulled out to a stop and Moody called out, "Remus, Fletch, park the wheels and keep a watch down here. Kings, head up and meet Tonks. See if you can ID those snoops they have up there. The rest of you, lets move out." Using a key, Moody activated the elevator, and all four entered the lift. He pressed a button for the eighteenth floor, and settled back. Another two minutes, and the lift opened to a reveal what had to be a really large broom closet, judging by the toilet paper and cleaning supplies piled around. Without another word, Moody opened the door and led them down a plush carpeted hallway to a suite numbered thirteen, and had the sign on it saying it was being renovated. Moody drew his wand, tapped the door, and it was opened by a straw haired wizard and a dark haired witch. The four entered where upon Moody introduced the wizard as Sturgis Podmore, and the witch as Hestia Jones. Jones reported, "The delegates have all arrived and are waiting in the conference room." Moody nodded, and asked, "Has it already been scanned?" Podmore nodded, "Both Magical and muggle. The room is as clean as a whistle, plus we got Elphias and Emmeline arranging food down in the kitchen, so everything's set, sir." Moody nodded, and led them through a small sitting room, and into a large conference room. Inside, around a cherry oak table were fifteen men and women whom Harry wondered were actually witches and wizards since all were dressed like Muggle businessman or women.
Arthur went forward and said, "Good morning, my name is Arthur Weasley and I am here on behalf of Albus Dumbledore. Please take seats." Everyone did so as Arthur continued, "I bid you welcome, and if it isn't a problem, I would like to you introduce yourselves to save any problems later on." One of the delegates, a tall, cadaverous an with a head of salt-and-pepper hair rose and introduced himself, "Charles G.B. Spender, US Department of Magical Affairs Intelligence Service"
A shorter, dapper looking man with slick-backed blond hair, "Pierre de Castre, France" The others in turn rose and introduced themselves likewise.
"Niccolo Colleoni, Italy"
"Marietta Hidalgo, Spain"
"Rheinhard Steiner, Germany"
"Anastasia Koniev, Russia"
"Kemal Mustafa, Turkey"
"Jan de Wet, South Africa"
"Carlita Gutierrez, Argentina"
"Zao Wang Shek, China"
"Hosni Sadat, Egypt"
"Prag Tiwari, India"
"Ruroni Takashi, Japan"
"Yi Sun Kyong, Korea"
"Arshad Khan, Iran"
All had the common denominator of working in the intelligence or diplomatic services for their magical governments in their homeland.
The American rose, "Now that we are here, can we get down to business?" He drew an ashtray close to him as he spoke. Harry took a seat besides Moody and Alex away from the table and watched as Arthur began briefing the assembled people. Harry paid close attention, but it was nothing new to him. After the Dark Lord's initial defeat in 1980, he had made an attempt to return in 1992 and had succeeded last June. So far, the situation was quiet as intelligence indicated the Dark Lord was slowly amassing support at home and abroad, and detailed the information available. Arthur stopped then, and allowed the delegates to digest the information presented.
Spender opened a pack of Marlborough cigarettes, and lit one. Inhaling the smoke, he asked, "Before any further discussion is possible, I personally have to know…what is the status of the Five case?" Arthur seemed disturbed by this, but it was Alex who answered, "My name is Alexander Evans, I believe I can answer that." Spender nodded, "I have but one question, has the fifth man been smoked out, and if so, was it either of the two that you and Moody were investigating in 1980-81?"
Alex sighed, "No, it was neither of them. The fifth man was Peter Pettigrew." Harry was intrigued, for he had heard oblique references to this case earlier in the year, and listened intently as it seemed to tie in with the death of his parents, Black's arrest, and more importantly, it was something he didn't know a thing about. The Russian Koniev asked next, "I thought Mr. Pettigrew was killed by Sirius Black and was a hero of sorts amongst your kind? Also what of the other four members of the Five Ring?"
Alex explained, "Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were never in any real positions of power during the war. While they may have gotten away with saying they were under the Imperius, they were still removed from what positions they were in the Ministry in the first place, and reduced to mainly collecting office gossip. Augustus Rookwood was perhaps their highest placed source within the Ministry as assistant head of the Department of Mysteries, though he was burned when Karkaroff was interrogated."
Alex sipped from a glass of water near the table, and continued, "The two primary suspects for the Fifth man described by the debriefing of Mr. Wiggins after his defection in the winter of 1979 following the assassination of Minister Appscott and his aide Vance Robb were found to be judged innocent after testimony was given by several witnesses where Pettigrew admitted to living as a rat for a period of over a decade, and having betrayed the secret of the Potters. From all evidence available…" Alex listed the theory that Pettigrew had been recruited immediately after graduation from Hogwarts, and had been supplying information to the Death Eaters for about two years before the Godric's Hollow Incident, since the summer of 1979.
The Japanese delegate asked, "What is the evidence of Pettigrew's treason? Indeed, where is the evidence that he is still alive?" Alex replied, "Evidence of the former comes from an analysis of previous evidence, along with testimony of a confession on Pettigrew's part in the summer of 1994. The latter is confirmed by the testimony of one primary source."
"Who is?"
"Mr. Harry Potter"
The delegates seemed uneasy at this…Well all except for Spender, who merely continued smoking his Marlborough and said, "All of us are here because our respective governments are concerned with another outbreak of Dark wizard activity in the United Kingdom, the way it during the 70s. However, before even the possibility of joint action is discussed, the validity of your Dark Lord's return must be verified." Another drag on the cigarette as Spender looked directly at Potter.
Harry had a very good idea what was going to happen, so he spoke first, "If my honesty is questioned, then I gladly offer to be interrogated by Mr. Spender and the other delegates under Veritaserum."
Spender smiled, "Oh, no, there is no need for that extreme. There is a muggle method we use in the States that has proven to be effective, and less…debilitating compared to a truth potion. Just sit still, take your glasses off, and allow me to ask a few questions."
Harry did just as he was told to do as Spender came up to him holding a rather large magnifying glass. Spender ordered, "Lean back and relax." Harry did so, as the chairs he and the bodyguards were in were modern office type chairs one could lean back in comfortably. Spender put the glass over one eye, and told Harry to shut the other one, which he happily did as it was disconcerting to Harry's vision having to have one eye stare through a magnifying glass while the other was in it's usual blur.
Spender asked, "Now, describe the events of the 24th of June, 1995?" In as calm a voice as Harry retold the events of the Third Task from the previous year. He wondered what the hell the point of the magnifying glass was for. For the first time, Harry noticed that he could relate the events from the previous year coherently, and almost unemotionally. The training, discipline, the drinking and sex and just plain living had had the recuperative effect on him. Harry personally thought it was because of two women that he had brought back from the point of losing it: Alice, the prostitute who had shown him so much of women and life, and had been a friend to him during the summer, and Ginny, to whom Harry felt he loved more then anything out there (especially his own life, for as long he could remember, he hadn't held it in high regard, figuring death couldn't be as bad as living under his Aunt's roof).
As soon he was done, Spender sighed, and told him to put his glasses back on. Turning to the other delegates, "Mr. Potter's story is the truth. It appears the worst case has occurred." Moody snorted and asked, "And how could you determine the veracity of Harry's information that toy?" Spender smiled, " There is a muggle investigative technique that has become vogue over the past several years by the muggle intelligence services. It seems when you lie, your pupils dilate slightly, as well as a slight movement of the eyes to up and to the right, apparently using the portion of the brain that processes imagination. When one of the analysts in Research heard of this, we tested it out on subjects under all sorts of conditions and discovered this salient fact: the eyes never lie. Even those who had to lie under the Imperius curse were discovered lying. No potion, or charm out there can hide the eyes. Well, unless you count death of course."
Moody seemed intrigued by it as the meeting began in earnest. After they had established the fact that Voldemort had returned, they settled down to the serious business of establishing a joint plan against Voldemort's aggression. Under wizard hierarchy, the main international body that oversaw the magical world was the International Confederation of Wizards, a United Nations for wizards, with every country of the world having it's own Ministry of Magic (or Department of Magical Affairs). However, there was, as in the muggle world from what Harry understood of it, a great deal of diplomacy between nations, with some of the more robust wizard nations out there having a greater influence. Britain was one such nation, as were the fifteen represented at the meeting.
From the way things sounded, the wizard world had seen more then it's fair share of madmen and power hungry despots the way the muggle world had, the difference was that the muggle world didn't also have the responsibility of keeping their major troubles and wars secret. During the previous war, it had been much the same way: after the bloodshed fighting Grindewald, people didn't think anyone as powerful would show up, and it took a long time for people to realize there was a problem and for action to be taken. Even the end of the war had seen bloodshed as die-hard holdouts fought at home, or their supporters abroad continued the fight.
The primary purpose of the meeting in London was to share intelligence on known dark magic organizations, and to reaffirm ties once things became public. It had been made abundantly clear to Arthur and the Order at the start that while the delegates' governments believed in combating Voldemort and the Dark Wizard organizations in a joint manner, Fudge was still Minister of Magic for the UK, and it was still largely an internal matter. All the meeting could do was share in intelligence on dark magic activity, of which all present had copious amounts.
Or rather, as Harry noted, the common denominator for the intelligence was thus: the more stable or rich the nation was in the muggle world determined dark activity. Thus, dark magic activity in nations such as Western Europe, North and South America, and North East Asia resulted in smaller, less aggressive, though better organized dark organizations. Spender boasted that his organization had the entire dark wizard population of the US constantly tracked so that within three hours of a go signal, the entire dark wizard community in the US could be rounded up and imprisoned should it be called for.
Groups in the Middle East, Africa, Central Asia, and Eastern Europe (this last one especially) were larger, far more aggressive, but fortunately less organized due to constant infighting. Since the muggle lands that they operated in were in various stages of turmoil, anything could, and usually did, go. Nonetheless, the Russian, Egyptian, Turkish, and Iranian magic ministries were keeping as tight a leash as possible on dark wizard depredations. Alex mentioned that it seemed Voldemort's group was operating near the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania again, and Koniev promised that he would see if could move agents and resources near those resources, though he could make no guarantees as the breakup of the muggle USSR had caused all sorts of havoc in Eastern Europe not seen since the 1940s.
Spender asked Arthur, "How is your shop intelligence wise? We had assumed Britain was a quiet region and, well…" He shrugged. Arthur sighed, "We're still building effective networks. I can't go into any specifics, but have several contacts reporting on various aspects of Voldemort's operations and that of his top lieutenants. I'm not going to answer questions about them, because not even I know the full specifics or even the number we have, but know this: the sources are high enough they can be used to verify each other."
Harry thought of Snape, and wondered who else was risking their life to do such a dangerous job. Whoever it was, they either had guts, or were determined in some form or fashion to gain vengeance against the Death Eaters to risk slow and painful death to get that information. Harry only hoped that their sacrifice wouldn't be in vain.