XIII

Ginny found herself at the top of the Astronomy tower, leaning her shoulder on the wall by a window, gazing into the distance. Harry was back and it changed everything. She was confused, her thoughts and feelings were all over the place. Memories of that kiss of theirs all those months ago were intertwined with more recent memories of secret rendezvous and stolen kisses with Neville and she didn't know what to do.

She sighed. It just wasn't fair. She had finally been ready to let go of him and move on, when suddenly, he was there. And he was different. So very different. Of course, she'd heard much of what he'd done as the... Vigilante, but she was too distant from all of that to know what to really make of it.

Or what it made of Harry. But she had noticed from the stunt he had pulled in the Great Hall earlier, that he was the same thoughtful, loyal friend he'd always been. He'd been back for all of five minutes and already, he'd seen to Luna's problem. This assertiveness was certainly a new facet to his personality.

She pushed from the window and paced the room for a little while, trying to make sense of all of this, knowing all the while it was mostly a pointless exercise. She was with Neville, of course, but even if she would be inclined to try and rekindle a relationship with Harry, he'd shown up at Hogwarts with them.

He was involved with Narcissa Malfoy, of all witches. And her sisters Bellatrix and Andromeda, according to Neville. It made no sense for it to happen so quickly and with all of them?

She heard the door open and turned around to find Harry coming into the room. He closed the door gently and leaned back against it. He was nervous, she noticed. Good. He deserved to be a little uncomfortable.

There was a thick silence in the room, which stretched on for a while, but Ginny wasn't about to break the silence. Harry had been the one to request a meeting, so he should get things moving. Which he did right then. He raised his head and squared his shoulders and walked over to her.

"Hello, Gin," he said confidently. "It's good to see you."

"Is that all you have to say after two years?" Ginny asked coldly.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and moved over to a torch and cupped his hand to call the small flame to his palm. He fed it a little more energy and formed it into a ball and let it bounce a few times, before he returned it to the torch once more.

"Well, we have to start this conversation somewhere and there's no reason not to be polite, even if you're angry with me," Harry said neutrally as he sat down on one of the benches that lined the walls.

Ginny sighed at that. He was right, of course. Being cross in this situation was only going to make matters worse and she needed closure. They both did and there was no sense in making it more difficult than it had to be. Then again, she would not be willing to put any gold on her temper not flaring.

"I am sorry I hurt you, but I don't regret what I did, Ginny. I wanted you to be as safe as you could be, and you have been."

At that last bit, Harry's voice became a little uncertain, an opening Ginny pounced upon. "Harry, if they were truly intent on harming me, us not being together would not have changed anything. You can't be dim enough to believe it would."

Harry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "It seemed such a brilliant idea back then, Gin. It really did, but you're right. It was pretty stupid."

Both of them felt as if a weight had been lifted of them and they both felt the air in the room lose some of the tension that had plagued it since Harry had entered the room. Naturally, their issues were not resolved by Harry's admission of being wrong, but it certainly helped them along.

Ginny approached the bench and sat down beside her friend and closed her eyes, content with sitting quietly for a moment and it seemed Harry felt the same way. She opened her eyes as she felt Harry grab her hand and squeeze it a little and she smiled a sad little smile. Harry's gesture was purely a friendly one.

"So, you and Neville?"

Ginny tilted her head as she acknowledged his question. "Yes."

"Well, not that it should matter, really, but I approve." As soon as the words left Harry's mouth, he realized he'd made a mistake and Ginny's expression turned sour.

"You're right, I don't need your approval!" Ginny said, a challenge in her voice and it seemed her infamous, fiery temper was flaring up. "Do you know how much it hurts to have you back, only to find out you're with someone? With them? Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy? Harry, these women are not worth..." Ginny didn't get any further than that, as Harry fixed her with a stone cold glare, the intensity of which frightened the redhead.

"That's enough! Be angry at me all you want, and I deserve it, but I will not allow you to disrespect them. Especially when you have no idea what they have been through. You can count yourself lucky that you were not raised in what some would call a proper pureblood household."

Ginny started shaking her head as if she didn't know what he was talking about, but Harry wasn't having any of that. "You're not an idiot, Ginny and you know exactly what I mean. You're a Weasley and a Prewett, old pureblood stock, and your mother must have told you what that means, and if not her, then that crazy bint Muriel will have. These women I'm with were raised like that, and look where it ended for them! Bella became what she did, Cissy was given to Malfoy and Andie had to leave and be disowned to get away from it all!"

Harry was really angry now. "Don't delude yourself into thinking we ever became a proper couple, Ginny. I honesly don't know why we're even having this conversation. We had one kiss! And now you're with another man yourself, so don't go pointing at me. Sure, I was in love with you back then, but I'm not the same man any more. The things I've seen, the things I've done, they change a person, Ginny. I didn't want to bring you into that world."

"You should have given me a choice!" Ginny exclaimed.

"You would have died! The choice was obvious!" Harry shouted right back. This was useless. Pointless.

And with that, Harry opened the door and quietly closed it behind him to leave Ginny alone. What a mess. On a platform halfway down the stairs, he came upon Neville, who was leaning against the wall, clearly waiting for them to finish their talk. Neville eyed Harry as he came down the stairs and gave him a knowing look.

"Didn't go too well, did it?" he asked in a kind of a forceful voice.

"Well, she has a temper, Nev. Make sure you're ready for it," Harry said and gave his friend a measured look.

"You're alright with this, Harry? I mean, we're mates and all, Ginny was your," Neville began, before Harry interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder. As he did, he heard as the door on top of the stairs opened very quietly and Ginny stopped some distance up the stairs. So, she was going to listen in, was she? Well, Harry felt he could use that to his advantage, since Neville had not noticed her.

"Neville, like I told Ginny, we never became a proper couple, mate. Sure, we shared that kiss and it was lovely and I spent almost the whole first year I was gone thinking of her, but you're a much better man than I am, or will ever be."

Neville snorted at that and shook Harry's hand of his shoulder. "Oh, right. When you came back, Ginny told me she needed to think about things." Another snort followed. "As if Neville, bloody Longbottom could be better than Harry Potter. I mean, look at you! Look at what you've done and become. Why should a woman like that settle for a bloke like me, when she could have someone like you? Neville asked defeatedly and Harry was very unhappy to see the old, spineless, self depreciating Neville make an appearance. Besides, he was wrong and Harry felt he should try and make him see that.

"Who sais she could have me? And you're not giving yourself enough credit, Neville. You've accomplished a lot since we last saw each other, and I know for a fact that you've been in many of the worst spots in the war. I may have been born with the courage to do what needed to be done, but you weren't, we both know that. Look, you may have been a bit of a coward when we were younger."

Neville deflated a little further at that, but Harry pressed on. "But, who's to say I could have risen above myself the way you have, to become what you are today? I remember a scared boy who went with his friend into the DoM, knowing full well there was a good chance of Riddle actually being there, and you fought full blown Death Eaters.

Not the acts of a coward, if you ask me. You are a great man, Neville and I promise you, she knows that. And if I know anything about Ginny, it's that she would never settle for anyone. If she decides to pursue a relationship with you any further, then that's was she wants and not something she's settling for."

Neville stood a little straighter after that and squared his shoulders and while he wasn't quite as tall and large as Harry, it was a near thing. The friends smiled at one another and Harry clasped his friend's shoulder again and started down the stairs, but stopped when a sudden thought hit him.

"Neville, mate?"

"Mmm?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where I could find Susan and Hannah, would you?" Harry asked hopefully. His friend shook his head, much to Harry's disappointment.

"'Fraid I don't, mate. Gran has them hidden away somewhere, under the Fidelius."

Harry's disappointment evaporated and he nodded thoughtfully. "Smart woman, your Gran," he said and descended the stairs again.


After having gone back to Minerva's quarters and learned Bella and the others had left the castle, Harry entered the grounds and walked over to Hagrid's hut, but found it empty. He was honestly a little relieved it was. He'd had his fill of meeting old friends for the day, so he walked out of the gates and Apparated to Gryffindor's Stronghold.

He ventured inside to find Bellatrix in the sitting room, relaxing in front of the fire with a book on staff wielding. He tried to get a glimpse at the title, but honestly didn't care. She looked up and smiled at him when he came in and sat down beside her. Bellatrix put down the book, shifted over to Harry and leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"Where are Andie and Cissy?"

"They're at Andie's. I wanted some time for ourselves."

"That's nice," Harry said and ran his hand through her hair.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry kept playing with her hair for a little while. "I will be. To be honest, I didn't really know Lupin all that well. Or Sirius, for that matter. Of course, I'll miss them and I feel terrible for Tonks, but I think... I think I was just clinging to whatever I could find that might connect me to my parents, you know? Clinging to what Moony and Padfoot represented."

Bella knew he was likely to become a moody mess if she didn't do something, so she decided to distract him in the best way she could think of. Well, that, and she simply didn't want to wait any longer. After all, there was a war on and they could all die tomorrow and she certainly did not want to miss her chance.

She straddled his lap and kissed him soundly on the lips and moaned into his mouth. They kissed for a while, before she climbed off and took his hand. She led him to the bathroom, where she proceeded to undress him and commanded him to get into the bath.

"Once you're done, come to your room. I'll be waiting," Bella said in a husky voice and she gave him a look that oozed sensuality, before she left the room. Needless to say Harry was very quickly done with his bath and dried himself swiftly. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he strode to his room and opened the door to find a very naked Bella reclining on the bed.

The only word Harry could think of when he laid eyes upon his Bella; perfection. He approached the bed slowly and climbed into it and eased himself onto Bella and they shared yet another passionate kiss. His lover was very eager and yet, as they progressed, he could feel her becoming uncertain and perhaps, even a little afraid. He pulled back and looked Bellatrix in the eye.

"Are you alright? We don't have to do this if you're not ready, Bella," he said gently and lay down next to her. His companion shook her head, and rested it on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Harry started running his fingers through her hair, which calmed her down and she let out a small sound of appreciation.

"No, I'm ready for it, Harry, it's just..."

"Hmm?" Harry said and kept playing with her hair.

"I've done this many times before, Harry. Had sex. But this will be the first time I'll be doing it with someone I care about. Someone I actually want and desire, and in a way, it feels like I'm doing this for the first time. I'm nervous and I'm afraid of bottling it, when I know I shouldn't be. I can do things that feel so good, they'll turn you mad with lust and the utter ecstasy I can bring you..."

Harry grabbed Bella and kissed her on the lips and she let out a slightly surprised sound. "You're rambling, you know. I understand you're nervous, Bella. Guess what? So am I," Harry said and smiled at her.

She gave him a curious look. "Why? I assumed someone like you would have had to fight the Hogwarts girls off with a Beater's bat."

Harry snorted at that. "No, not really. Before Narcissa and I got together, I'd had a total of two kisses. One of which was utterly terrible. I've had a few since, true, but I'm by no means, an expert. You'll have to take the lead on this, Bella," Harry breathed in her ear and trailed a few nibbling kisses down her neck, making his partner purr low in her throat. She arched her head to expose more of her neck, giving him better access. "Teach me how to please you."

"Well, you're off to a good start," she softly moaned and fisted his hair gently...


Fleur Delacour emerged gracefully from the Floo at Maison Delacour, and was greeted by the flying missile that was her sister Gabrielle. Fleur certainly didn't mind, as they had always been very close and had only gotten more so since her problems with William had begun.

"Come, Fleur! Maman and Papa are waiting on the balcony. We are all rather anxious to learn what your emergency meeting was about!"

Fleur had to smile at her sister's enthusiasm, which was always a little infectious. As a young lady of nearly fourteen years, Gabrielle often acted like a much younger girl, which endeared her to most people who knew her.

The sisters made their way through the house and onto the balcony at the back, which overlooked a picturesque valley, the rolling hills filled with rows and rows of trees whose vines were laden with grapes that would be harvested, come September.

Fleur's grandfather, Sébastien Delacour, an orphan, had started the vineyard as a young man with nothing but his skill and determination to his name. In time, he became recognized as an extremely gifted winemaker and slowly, but surely his fame grew. Even though the vineyard had not become very large, it eventually became more than he could oversee by himself and so he contacted a childhood friend, a businessman named Bertrand, proposing a partnership.

Knowing his friend, Bertrand readily agreed and they turned the small venture into a very well known brand, associated with quality and passion. The company grew steadily from year to year and the two men became extremely wealthy. And yet, Bastien, as he was known to his friends, never lost sight of his origins and would travel to his small home town at least twice a year and bring gifts and whatever joy he could to the orphanage he'd grown up in. It was during one of those trips where he met Adrienne, a fellow orphan and the woman who would soon become his wife.

They met on the town market and their love was ignited and exploded into a raging bonfire at first sight. Mere weeks later, they were married in a small ceremony, attended only by the priest and Bertrand. Some time later, Adrienne revealed her true nature as a witch to her husband, who did not care even the slightest bit that his wife was not a regular human.

Adrienne told Bastien, who had insisted Bertrand be included in their conversation, all she knew of the magical world, much to the two men's delight. Less than a year after they were married, a son was born and they named him Jean-Luc, who displayed an affinity for magic very early on.

At eleven years old, Jean-Luc was enrolled into Beuxbatons where he excelled in his studies and became a leader within the school and involved himself in most matters that had to do with the student body. He was known to be very open minded, (a trait no doubt passed to him by his father), and to dislike bullies with a passion and was more than once disciplined for taking matters into his own hands. He calmed down as the years went by and as soon as he graduated, he joined the French DMLE, much to his father's disappointment, who'd hoped his son would manage the vineyard, once he himself retired.

As expected, Jean-Luc rose quickly through the ranks and reached a captain's position faster than anyone before him. Because of his views, he would often be sent by his government as a liaison between them and minorities. Such as the Veela.

The Veela, a race of enchantingly beautiful women who evolved from the Sirens of the Ancient World, were strong magic users and had a number of inherent abilities, such as the ability to form and throw fireballs with their hands as well as shapeshift into an avian creature when greatly threatened. And of course their beauty and Allure, which could be used to enchant others.

Desired by men (and some women) of all stations, wars were fought over the affections and, sometimes, ownership of these women and some historians went so far as to maintain that Helen of Troy had been a Veela. In the end, they were forced to hide and ultimately, they formed several hidden enclaves in the lands surrounding the Aegean Sea; the regions of Anatolia and Thrace, and the Grecian empire, to name a few.

The communities were always led by a matron, the oldest Veela living in each of the enclaves. In time, many Veela migrated toward the Mediterranean and established settlements in Spain and France.

A year after Jean-Luc became captain, an Auror came upon the gruesome murder of a pair of young Veela girls, barely fifteen years of age. A third one had been kidnapped and a ransom had been demanded. Deciding to take on the investigation himself, Jean-Luc had travelled to the French Veela enclave and sought an audience with Matron Célia, in order to inform her of the murders of the two women and reassure her that he was doing everything in his power to find the third one, Amélie.

The meeting had gone well for the most part and the matron had been impressed with the young man and especially his open mind and the need to find justice for her young women. And of course his apparent immunity to he Veela Allure. A most impressive feat and highly desirable in a possible mate.

Wanting to keep well informed of the progress of the investigation, Matron Célia decided to send her own daughter with Jean-Luc. The young captain refused at first, but when Apolline joined them in the audience chamber, he finally understood what his father had meant when he'd told him he had fallen in love with his mother Adrienne at first sight.

Needless to say, Jean-Luc was more than willing to have her accompany him, and even more so when he found Apolline to be more than his match intellectually and when it came to magical prowess, she was his equal.

Matron Célia was most satisfied with what she'd seen and hoped dearly her gambit would work out to her satisfaction. Or her daughter's, as the case might be. She was certain the two of them would return Amélie safely to her home and hopefully, they would find love along the way.

And love they did find. After a few weeks, Amélie was rescued and sent back home, alone. Apolline had fallen deeply in love with her partner and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with him. Her mother was exceedingly happy with how things had progressed and soon the pair moved in together.

Célia was deliriously happy when she discovered Apolline was pregnant and after a full term, her daughter gave birth to a healthy girl. True, Fleur was technically only a quarter Veela, but that was no matter, Veela always bred true.

Then, some years later, Célia was invited to Jean-Luc's and Apolline's home where she was told her son in law had become the new head of the DMLE, which the matron honestly felt was long overdue and was quite happy to learn of it. The joyful news did not stop there, however, as Apolline revealed her second pregnancy to her mother, who was struck speechless. Her race had severe problems with fertility, and as a result, one child was considered a rare blessing. A second child? Now, that was a miracle. And six months later, the bundle of joy that was Gabrielle was born.

Apolline and Jean-Luc Delacour rose from their seats as their daughters emerged from the doorway and the eldest Veela embraced her daughter in a manner that seemed a very agitated, in Fleur's opinion. Her father embraced her as well, just as anxious as his wife, though most people would not have noticed.

Fleur had always been able to read her father easily enough, thanks to her inherent abilities. Always the gentleman, he took her hand and led her to the table and pulled back her chair. Once they were all seated, he poured his daughter a small glass of a very good Cabarnet Sauvignon. Fleur took a sip and savoured the rich taste for a moment, before taking another one.

Jean-Luc cleared his throat. "So, Fleur, what was so important you had to rush out of the house? I hope Voldemort has not tightened his hold on Britain any further?"

Fleur shook her head. "Non, Papa. In fact, he was dealt a decisive blow yesterday, one which I do not believe he will recover from for a while, if at all. Not that it makes him any less dangerous."

Everyone at the table looked a little relieved at hearing that. But they all knew Fleur well enough to know there was more, something even more momentous than what she'd just told them. Jean-Luc rubbed his chin as he pondered what it might be, but could honestly not think of a single thing more important than striking back at Voldemort with some strength. Apolline and Gabrielle, however kept their eyes on Fleur, who became a little uncomfortable. Then, Apolline made a sudden leap of logic. Could it be?

"Fleur?" Apolline prodded her daughter and Gabby placed a hand on her sister's arm in support. Fleur smiled a little sadly at her family, before taking a deep breath.

"Harry has resurfaced and he's alright."

Her father's eyes widened at that and Apolline's hand went to her mouth. Gabrielle, however squealed in delight and threw her arms around her sister and laughed joyously. While Gabrielle had in time overcome her infatuation with Harry, as well as her hero worship, she still regarded him as her own personal hero, seeing as he had saved her life in the Tri-Wizard.

The fact she had never actually been in any danger did not factor in the youngest Delacour's mind. Harry had believed her life was in danger and taken steps to ensure her survival. This had endeared him to Fleur and indeed her whole family.

Jean-Luc was deep in thought. He was an outspoken supporter of the French taking an active part in the war, to help their brethren across The Channel. He had tried telling his fellow wizards that Voldemort would not be satisfied with just Britain, but even so, the fat bâtards of the Sénat were not to be moved.

Some men, men he suspected were sympathetic to Voldemort's agenda, had even voiced the possibility of appeasement, should Voldemort reach across to France. Jean-Luc repressed a disgusted snort as he turned to his older daughter.

"Am I correct in assuming Mr. Potter had something to do with this victory against the enemy?"

Fleur nodded. "He was almost solely responsible, papa."

"And may I ask how?"

At that, Fleur frowned at her father, which in and of itself was an unusual thing, as their relationship was and always had been excellent. Apolline reached across the table to grab her daughter's hand and run her thumb across her knuckles.

"What has you so scared, Fleur? You have won a victory against the darkness. It should be a time of celebration," Apolline said and smiled at her daughter in a way she felt was a heartening one.

Fleur blew out the breath she'd been holding and closed her eyes in silent contemplation. She could tell them, but she required a certain something one usually did not demand of their family. She opened her eyes once more and turned her gaze upon each of her family members as she rose from her chair. She motioned for them to follow her, which they did after sharing uneasy glances.

Fleur was not one to be grim, so whatever it was had to be extremely serious. The three quickly followed her to Jean-Luc's study and once they were all inside, Fleur closed the door and began casting a long series of privacy charms, some of which even the head of the French DMLE had never heard of. She finally blocked off the Floo, for good measure. It all made her father extremely uneasy.

"Fleur-"

She ignored him. "If you wish to learn more, I am going to require all of you to swear an oath upon your magic, never to reveal anything I tell you to anyone outside of this room, unless I or Harry permit it."

Apolline and and Jean-Luc were shocked into silence and turned to look at each other, not quite knowing how to react to such a demand from their daughter. Gabrielle, however immediately drew her wand to recite an oath, and her tip glowed for a moment. She quickly cast a Lumos, to affirm her sincerity.

"Gabrielle!" her father exclaimed, before he turned a furious glare toward his older daughter, but his anger was nothing compared to the raging fury he saw in his wife's eyes as she stormed toward Fleur, who, to her credit stood firm. Her eyes were fiery and Jean-Luc could see their hands start to clench. He swiftly clasped a hand on his wife's shoulder and turned toward Gabrielle, who was staring at the other three people in the room.

"What could have possessed you to make such a foolish vow, Gabrielle?" Jean-Luc demanded. "One misplaced word and you could lose your magic!"

Gabrielle made her way to stand in front of Fleur and levelled a strong look at her parents. "I trust my sister and if she believes this is necessary, I will do so, and so should you. We all know Fleur would not make such a demand if she didn't think she had to."

Fleur put her hand on Gabrielle's shoulder and gave her a grateful hug. "I must insist Papa, Maman. If this knowledge reaches the wrong hands, it will be catastrophic."

Her parents shared a long look, before finally relenting and taking a similar oath as Gabrielle had done earlier. Once that was done, Fleur marched to her father's desk and withdrew his small Pensieve. It was not as large, nor as ornate as the one in Minerva's office, but it had all the same features.

Fleur wondered if it was simply a matter of age, as she suspected the other one to be ancient. She motioned for the others to gather around the bowl and placed her wand to her temple and placed a long silver strand into the liquid. She then tapped her wand on the right runes and the memory started playing from the moment Minerva placed those thrice cursed items on her desk.


Horcruxes... Apolline sank down into the sofa that sat by the wall to the right of the door. She felt drained, disgusted. To think that anyone, even one as insane as Voldemort could do such a despicable thing. As a witch with great knowledge of charms and curses, (she had been the one to ignite Fleur's passion for the subject), she knew exactly what a person must do to create one of those abominations.

She was immensely glad to know that knowledge of these things was extremely limited. She glanced at her husband, who was in similar state, though much better composed, as he had, inevitably, perhaps, always been better at dealing with his emotions.

She watched as Gabrielle's face morphed into a mask of obvious revulsion as her sister explained to her what those things were. Then there was Mr. Potter. She vividly remembered the young man she had met before the third task of that infernal tournament. He'd been small for his age and a little timid, but courteous and respectful. The man she'd seen in Fleur's memory could not even be called human.

"So," her husband began. "What has Mr. Potter done to himself?"

Fleur shook her head. "I don't know, Papa. He has not told us. There's another meeting tomorrow morning, where I suspect he will tell us."

"And, presumably reveal the nature of the last Horcrux."

"I imagine so, yes."

"I must say, I find it strange Mr. Potter chose to reveal himself before destroying the last Horcrux. Surely, he runs the risk of Voldemort retrieving it before he gets his hands on it."

Fleur nodded. "I suspect most of us who were at the meeting did, once we'd had some time think it over, Papa."

"Unless he already has it in his possession, but hasn't been able to destroy it," Apolline supplied helpfully.

"I suppose that's a possibility," Fleur agreed.

Jean-Luc slowly walked over to the sofa and sat down beside his wife and took her hand in his. This changed things quite a bit. Revealing Mr. Potter's return to the Sénat might shake some sense into those brain dead fools over there.

In fact, it might be a fine idea to head to the office and call a meeting of some of his allies in the government and tell them about Mr. Potter's return. Yes, he would do so. Tonight. He turned to his wife.

"My love, I-"

Apolline smiled knowingly at him. "Go, Jean-Luc. The iron must be struck while it's hot, non?"

He kissed his wife on the cheek and then bid his daughters farewell, after assuring them he'd be back before morning.

Once he'd left, Apolline ushered her younger daughter upstairs while her eldest went back out on the balcony, her mind drifting as she poured herself another glass of the excellent wine. She took a long draw from the glass and sighed as she could literally feel the calming effects of the wine coarse through her body. She'd always found good wine an effective way to relieve stress.

A small flower captured her attention and she gently traced the petals with her finger, before she picked it loose and brought it to her nose to inhale the scent. How simple the existence of a flower had to be.

It was just there. No worries or responsibilities, nothing, except what nature intended. She put the flower onto the railing and turned around when she heard her mother come out onto the balcony once more with a strained expression on her face.

"How is Gabrielle?" Fleur asked and sat down at the table.

Her mother poured the rest of the wine into a glass and took a long sip. "Worried, disgusted, horrified. It's difficult to say which one. Most likely it's all of the above."

"I can imagine."

A long silence settled over them, both women lost in their thoughts. After a while, Fleur got up and began pacing the length of the balcony slowly, rubbing her upper arms with some force. Apolline eyed her for a while, before she made her way over to the railing to pick up the flower Fleur had been holding earlier. She knew her daughter was upset and no wonder. Not many would be unaffected by what she'd learned.

Again, Apoline knew her daughter well enough to understand there was something more troubling her. And she knew what it was, she had warned her it would happen, after all. If only she had turned her eyes to the right man in the beginning, this could all have been avoided. Her daughter was miserable and had been for some time now. She'd been waiting for Fleur to come talk with her, but it seemed she was reluctant to do so.

"What is it Fleur? What has made you so sad?"

The younger woman sighed softly and sat down again and put her head in her hands for a moment. "I hardly know where to start, Maman. You were right, before. William and I have been having problems and it has finally reached a point where I have decided to call off the engagement."

Apolline reached across the table and squeezed her daughter's hand. While it certainly wasn't anything she had not expected, she hated seeing Fleur so painfully sad.

"Well, perhaps it is for the best, then," Apolline said.

"I just feel so terrible, Maman. They are such good people, the Weasleys." Fleur's gaze fell onto the the table.

Apolline nodded at her daughter, knowing she'd be like that, the kind soul that she was. Still, it would not do for her to take all of the blame for this. If there was any blame to be had at all. Sometimes, things simply did not work out.

"Were you going to marry all of the Weasleys, Fleur?"

"What?" Fleur asked incredulously. "No, of course not! Don't be silly."

Apolline cocked an eyebrow. "Then this is between you and William and no one else. But there is more, isn't there?"

"Oui." Fleur was quiet for a moment, before she continued on. "He was a boy, the last time I saw him, Maman."

"Was he?" Apolline asked, knowing exactly whom her daughter was referring to. "I seem to recall seeing a young man who'd duelled the darkest of dark lords and escaped. Not only that, but he managed to bring back the body of his friend, allowing his family to bury and properly grieve for their son. Those were not the actions of a boy, Fleur."

Fleur stared at the sky for a while before answering. "I don't know what to do. I saw him once and it set off something in me I cannot explain. But more than that... She is reacting to him as well."

Apolline smiled knowingly. At last, her daughter was seeing things clearly. "This surprises you? It does run in the family, you know. On both sides. And if she has set her sights on him as well, then this can work very well, Fleur."

"Well, I guess you were right-"

Fleur was interrupted by an alarm from the Floo, which surprised the pair of them quite a bit, given it was after eleven in the evening. They quickly made their way into her father's study to find a goblin waiting patiently in the Floo.

While Fleur recognized the goblin, but she didn't know him at all. He had a twin brother, didn't he? Again, she was uncertain; these days, she spent most of her time in Egypt with William, working as a curse breaker.

"Mr. Guybrush?"

The goblin grinned at her. "It's Threepwood actually, Miss Delacour." The goblin inclined his head at her mother. "Mrs. Delacour, it's good to see you this night. I apologize for calling so late, but there's something I require your daughter's help with and I believe it may be exceedingly urgent."

"You need me to join you at Gringotts?" Fleur asked.

"Yes. As soon as possible. Preferably right now."

Fleur turned to her mother. "I think I had better go, Maman. If they're calling us this late, it must be truly important."

Apolline nodded at her daughter and embraced her firmly. "Go. I'll let your father and sister know where you've gone." And with that, Fleur entered the Floo and disappeared.


Threepwood led Fleur down a deserted hallway. They had travelled deep into Gringotts's bowels and eventually, they came upon a room she knew was reserved for only the most important meetings. After all, it was the best warded room in the bank, aside from the very oldest vaults.

They entered the room and Fleur discovered a pair of goblins inside. One was obviously Threepwood's brother, Guybrush. The other one was Griphook, a high ranking official she'd seen a few times, but never spoken with.

What really made Fleur uncomfortable was the presence of Andromeda and Narcissa Black. This was all very cloak and dagger, and she was very nervous. She did not know, of course what this was all about, but given her profession, she understood it had to have something to do with curses and considering the timing and what had been happening over the past two days, she could only deduce that Harry was involved somehow. Of course, the presence of the Black sisters all but confirmed it. Then she noticed a large piece of parchment on the long conference table. When she studied it further, she recognized it.

"This is the new excavation they started in Thebes a while ago! The dead city of Hamunaptra! But why call for me? Surely there are other, more qualified people available," Fleur said, confused.

"The sisters Black requested your presence. Now, take a seat, please, Miss Delacour," Griphook said and motioned to a chair at the table, next to Narcissa.

"Now that we're all here, please close the door, and activate the wards, Guybrush. We do not want to be disturbed."

Griphook looked over his glasses at Fleur for a moment. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Miss Delacour, I wish to ask you. What do you know about Horcruxes?"


Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table of the Burrow, reading the notes Narcissa had given her earlier for the fourth time. This was... Had Harry actually written this? Well, Hermione was fairly certain Narcissa had helped him a bit, despite her claim otherwise. She was extremely sharp, after all. But the idea that Harry Potter, the very average student had written this seemed almost impossible to her.

She'd always known Harry was smart and it did not surprise her to learn he had finally harnessed his intelligence when he didn't have her at his side to rely on. She was glad of it. She heard someone come down the stairs and eventually, Ron came stumbling into the kitchen, bleary eyed and half asleep by the look of him.

"Hermione, you're not coming to bed?"

She tilted her head and looked at him. "But it's only..." She looked at the clock and noted it was well after midnight. Had she really been reading this for three hours? She looked back at Ron, who was now busying himself with the left overs from supper.

Hermione stared down onto the parchment once more with a deep longing. It was almost as if Harry had looked into her very soul and put to parchment everything she wanted to accomplish once this war was over. It also represented the only way she could perceive leading to a lasting peace. The only problem was she didn't see just how he meant to accomplish all this.

"Ron, have you read this?" she asked her boyfriend and tapped the parchment with her finger.

"I glanced at it," Ron said without looking at her.

"You haven't read it, then. I asked you to read it with your father, Ron," Hermione said in a frustrated voice.

He looked at her, then at the notes and scowled darkly. "No, I didn't read it, Hermione. Why would I even bother? I reckon you're going to tell me just how great it is, how amazing and smart the great, wonderful Harry bloody Potter is."

Hermione stared at Ron incredulously. What had brought this on? Harry had just returned to them and not only that, he'd saved dozens of people the day before. Then she remembered Moody's declaration after the confrontation with Riddle.

It had been so long since Ron had shown any of his jealous tendencies, she'd almost forgotten about them. Hermione sighed deeply. She had honestly hoped he'd finally outgrown this foolishness.

"Oh, Ron, do not do this. Not now," she pleaded.

"Do what?" Ron tried to sound ignorant. Naturally, Hermione saw through it at once.

"Don't give me that, Ronald Bilius Weasley. You know precisely what I am talking about!"

"I do not," Ron said angrily, and was clearly being wilfully obtuse.

"You're jealous," Hermione bit out. "Harry finally comes back, and suddenly, you're acting like you did in fourth year when his name came out of the Goblet. I cannot believe you would do this again."

"Well, I'm not the one who disappeared for two years without so much as a word to anyone!"

Hermione quickly cast a silencing spell, so that they would not wake up everyone else. "Ron," she began softly. "This isn't about Harry's disappearance. You're just angry because Moody wants to make Harry the leader of the Order. I know you wanted it, don't deny it."

Ron threw the fork he was holding into the sink and stared at Hermione. "And why shouldn't I be angry? What gives him the right to march in here after two years and demand to become our leader? People are falling all over themselves to please him. Even McGonagall and it nearly got her killed," Ron said disgustedly. "And Lupin did die!"

Hermione took offence on Harry's behalf at that last bit. "He demanded no such thing, Ronald. I shall be very surprised if he accepts the position. And if people are doing as he asks, then it's because they trust him. What happened to Remus was a tragedy, but people die in war, we all know that."

"Sure we do, but how well did following Potter's orders work out for McGonagall, eh?" Ron asked smugly.

Disgusted, Hermione threw up her hands and turned around, trying to calm down, but it wasn't working. She turned back toward Ron with an angry expression on her face. "And how were we supposed to know what lay in store? They had to have been looking out for anyone disillusioned. No one looks at a cat, Ron and Professor McGonagall knew that. It was a good plan that failed."

Ron was furious. Hermione was his girlfriend. She was supposed to support him, not defend the other guy. "Why are you defending him? You are just as angry as I am about him leaving!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at that and marched over to the kitchen table to grab Harry's notes, as well as her own scribbled extras. She carefully rolled them up again, before turning to Ron, who was scowling at her.

"I was, but I moved on from it months ago and decided to allow Harry to explain his reasons to me, if I was ever given the chance to speak to him again. Now, I'm going to bed, but you're sleeping on the sofa tonight, Ronald, and every night until you decide to grow up," she said with some finality.

"And do not even think you're going to join Harry and me tomorrow. I'm going to meet my best friend properly for the first time in two years and I will not have you ruin it with your juvenile insecurities." And with that, she cancelled the silencing charm and stormed out of the kitchen trampled up the stairs, leaving behind a seething Ron.


Harry and Bellatrix entered Andie's home shortly before eight o'clock and found the house empty. They ventured into the kitchen and found a note where Andie and Cissy asked Bella to meet them at Gringotts as soon as she arrived at Nr. 45. Further, they asked Harry not to worry and go to Hogwarts to meet with his friends and that they would be there in time for the meeting.

"Why don't you use the Floo, Harry," Bella said. "It should open now." Without waiting for an answer, she quit the house and Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Harry was left alone in the house and he scowled at the fireplace for a few moments. Eventually, he took a deep breath and grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the clay jar. He threw it into the grate and stepped in and disappeared in a green flash after shouting his destination.

Hermione and Minerva nearly had a heart attack when a large man came sliding face down out of the Floo in Minerva's office. The man, who they realized was actually Harry, rolled over onto his back and groaned defeatedly while staring at the ceiling.

"There's something wrong with me, I'm telling you," Harry said and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Superhuman strength, speed and agility and I still can't Floo properly. I must have some kind of disability," he mumbled as he scrambled to his feet and pointed at Hermione, who was staring at him with an amused expression. Minerva was trying to hold in her laughter, as well as maintain her usual stern expression with rather mixed results.

"I've discovered a new magical malady," Harry declared ostentatiously. "Magitravellicus Terribilus. Make sure you write down the name, time and date, Hermione. It's a historic moment," Harry exclaimed and thrust a finger into the air.

As soon as he stopped talking, both women burst out laughing and Harry couldn't help but chuckle along. As soon as he'd quit the Floo, he'd felt a slightly heavy atmosphere in the room and he was glad to lift their spirits a little.

"Good morning, you two," Harry said and smiled at the women, who greeted him in return.

Minerva made her way over to her lover and kissed him lightly on the lips. Harry, not satisfied with such a chaste kiss, pulled her to him and kissed her with a passion, and the woman in his arms arched her body into him. A few seconds later, Minerva took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, before she suggested the younger two go up to her quarters to have their talk.

"Harry, why don't you and Miss Granger go to my quarters and speak there? You'll have more privacy up there. I expect people will no doubt start arriving soon."

"Thank you, Minerva," Harry said and grabbed the hand of his best friend, who looked almost catatonic. He led her up the stairs and into the common room of Minerva's quarters, where Harry sat Hermione down.

"What just happened Harry?" Hermione asked when she'd gathered herself.

"Minerva and I shared a kiss."

His friend gave him a deadpan look "Are you trying to become some sort of Sheik? Professor McGonagall and all the Black sisters?"

At that point, Harry had become quite embarrassed. "I honestly don't know what to tell you, Hermione. It's so strange. It just happened, I guess? I saved Cissy that night at the manor, and I couldn't get her out of my mind. Then I rescued Bella and brought her to Andie and... Look, Andie thinks it may have something to do with magic."

"Soul magic, then." Hermione stated.

"That'd be my guess," Harry replied and sat down in the sofa, next to his friend. "I couldn't help but notice Ron isn't here."

Hermione stared into the fire for a while and her expression became troubled. "Can I assume you've not met Moody since Hogsmeade, then?"

Harry didn't understand. "Yeah, that's right, I haven't. What's that got to do with Ron's absence?"

"Moody wants you to become the leader of the Order, Harry."

Now, that rang the bells in Harry's head. A few memories from fourth year resurfaced and he understood why his supposed friend wasn't there. "Ron's jealous, then," Harry said, a little frustrated and very disappointed. "Well, he can have the Order, Hermione. I certainly don't want it."

Hermione placed a hand on Harry's arm and squeezed it lightly. "I know, Harry. But you know as well as I do that if you tell Ron he can have it, he'll be even more angry and will rant for an hour on how he doesn't need your charity."

They sat in silence for a while, before Harry grabbed her hands in her own and stared into her eyes and the intensity of it caught Hermione by surprise. She stared at his eyes and again found herself wondering just what he'd done to himself.

"What in Merlin's name made you think pursuing a relationship with Ronald Weasley was a good idea?"

Hermione leaned back at that. How had Harry known about that? Well, someone had obviously told him and it made her a little irritated. She'd wanted to tell him herself. "Who told you?"

"No one told me. All my senses have been greatly enhanced and I can smell him on you, but we'll talk more about that later. Tell me, Hermione, do you honestly think Ronald will be there to support you when your career takes of? I know it won't matter what you choose to do with your life, you have the ability to go as far as you want to and I'm hoping to help you get there."

Ignoring the first part of Harry's words, she instead replied to the second part. "Well, Harry, I want to help you change things around Britain, to achieve the things you wrote in your notes. What you've written on that parchment is practically my dream."

Harry noted that Hermione had not answered his question about Ron, but decided to drop it for now, and smiled. "So, Cissy gave you a copy of the parchment, then. What do you think?"

"It's overly ambitious, but overall, I think it's great, Harry. We all need to work together if we're to achieve a lasting peace. The only way for that to happen is for everyone to have a voice in the government."

Harry nodded. "Exactly and I believe you're integral to that end, Hermione."

His friend was shocked, to say the least. "Me? Why me, Harry?"

"I'll tell you all about it later, alright? After the meeting, I'd like you, Cissy and Mr. Weasley to stay behind. There's something I need to discuss with you and it ties directly into this and I don't see the need to go through it twice. Look, I haven't met you in almost two years, Hermione and I don't fancy spending all the time we have to ourselves talking about something we'll be discussing later anyway, so let's talk about something else."


After almost an hour and a half, there was a knock on the door and Bellatrix strode into the room, followed by her sisters, Minerva and Fleur. They were all rather excited, but Fleur was wearing an expression of anger and sorrow.

At what, Harry wasn't sure, but he assumed she wasn't angry at him, since she marched right to him and yanked him out of the sofa before throwing her arms around him. Harry was a bit taken aback, but wrapped his own arms around her waist.

"What is it, Fleur?"

"How have you managed to carry this burden all this time without going insane?" she mumbled. "These things are so utterly tainted with evil I cannot imagine anyone withstanding it."

Harry looked over at the four other women and Narcissa nodded slightly. Fleur knew, then. Oh, well, she would've learned of it in less than an hour anyway. He was aware of Hermione's piercing eyes upon them and released Fleur and backed away a step.

"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione asked in a small voice. The tone of her voice told Harry she had already connected all the right dots in her clever mind, and was simply asking for confirmation of her fears. He led his French friend to the sofa and sat her down, before sitting himself on the coffee table.

"The last Horcrux is in here, Hermione," Harry said and tapped his chest. "It's been in here since I was fifteen months old. By now, it's become as much a part of me as my arms or feet."

Hermione sat in horror induced silence for a few moments, before her eyes hardened and she stared firmly at Harry. "Then we'll remove it. Every ritual has a counter measure. All we need to do is find it."

"Hermione-" Harry began.

"No! I refuse to believe it cannot be removed. Now, shut up, Harry. I'm thinking."

"Je suis d'accord avec elle. Harry do be quiet." Fleur said and nailed Harry with a stern look.

Bellatrix laughed out loud at Harry's lack of response and grinned at the bushy haired girl and the Veela. "Oh, I like them, Harry. They've got spirit." She turned to her sisters and Minerva with a hopeful expression. "Can we please spend more time with them? I'm sure we'll get on famously. Oh, and since Hedwig can't speak, Hermione and Fleur can tell us how to have Harry do as he's told."

Narcissa grinned at her sister in return. "Oh, I rather think we should." Minerva and Andie supported that idea whole heartedly.

Harry was not quite certain what was going on, but at least understood when he was hopelessly outmatched and outnumbered. He noticed Narcissa holding a folder in her hand that was marked with a Gringotts seal.

"What do you have there, Narcissa?"

The woman in question shooed Harry of the table and Bellatrix conjured another sofa, along with a couple of stuffed chairs that she placed around the table. Once that was done, Narcissa removed the contents of the folder, a single parchment and placed it on the table. Harry realized was a map of some sort, or perhaps they were blueprints. Narcissa waved her wand over the parchment and it reverted back to it's original size.

"This is a new excavation Gringotts has undertaken in Egypt," Fleur said as she leaned over and watched her friend's eyes roam the map.

"That's very interesting and all, but I fail to see what it has to do with my problem."

"Harry, Gringotts believes this ruin may hold the tomb of the warlock who created the Horcrux ritual," Fleur said.

Harry was silent for a little while as he pondered this new information. "The timing is rather interesting, wouldn't you say?" he remarked to the gathered women.

"Yes, it is," Hermione agreed. "Any thoughts on that?" she asked and turned to Fleur, who simply shrugged and pointed at Narcissa.

"I asked Griphook, but I'm afraid he could not elaborate any further on that, Miss Granger. It seems like a coincidence," Narcissa said.

Minerva scoffed at that. "Coincidence is not a word I would use when talking about anything relating to Harry James Potter, Narcissa," the Headmistress said with a exasperated expression.

Harry turned to Fleur. "So what now?"

"Well, it is a new discovery and they have barely ventured into the ruin itself, but they believe it is quite large and absolutely riddled with traps if the warnings they have found are anything to go by."

Hermione ran the fingertips of one hand over the map, before she sent Fleur a quizzical look. "So this what they believe the layout may be like?"

"Yes, exactly," Fleur said with a nod, before turning to Harry. "There's a problem though. With a find like this, it can take months, perhaps even years to make them safe enough to explore and until they are, they are closed to anyone, aside from a curse breaker with the proper clearance."

"I can't wait that long, Fleur. Britain cannot wait that long," Harry said.

"We know that, Harry," Andie chided him softly. "And Griphook knows that as well, which is why he contacted the director of Gringotts Britain, Mr. LeChuck and convinced him to grant us access to the dig. Unfortunately, he was only willing to give access for three people and a curse breaker."

Harry let out a long breath and, as he so often did, ran a hand through his hair. "This changes things. We're going to have to move our plans up a bit."

"Yes, I'd think so, Harry," Narcissa said and stood up. "For now, however, we are late for the meeting, so I suggest we get to it."


Harry stood beside Minerva, who was sitting at her desk and gazed over the gathering with a satisfied look; everyone he wanted to be there had come. He noted that Hermione and Fleur did not stand anywhere close to Bill and Ron, preferring the company of the Black sisters.

Tonks stood next to her mother, who had a hand around her waist and held her close. Harry made a point of speaking to Tonks soon. He knew it would take some time, but she would be alright. She was strong and she'd have her mother to help her through the rough spots. He'd be there too, of course, if she'd let him.

With a slight frown, Harry noted Ronald standing in the back, close to the door, as if he hadn't wanted to be there. So, it wasn't just that Ron was a jealous berk. With the occasional dirty look he'd give Hermione and by how Ron would avoid his gaze, Harry realized the pair of them had fought the day before.

Well, after this, he might have quite a few more things to be envious about. Thing was, Harry didn't care anymore. If Ron refused to grow up, then he'd be left behind, it was that simple. The bloody git had better not drag Hermione down too far before she finally decided he wasn't worth it.

"Good morning, everyone. I've asked you to come here today because I wanted to finish our discussion from the other day. The last time, we were interrupted right after I had shown you my discussion with the Black sisters. This time, I've decided not to use the Pensieve and simply go over everything very roughly, alright?"

And so Harry began his tale and told them about how he'd been kidnapped by Fawkes and brought to Gryffindor's stronghold and his meeting with the Founder. He quickly assured everyone he would eventually take them there and offered it as a possible HQ for the Order. Then he got to the Potion and described what it was.

As he suspected, Ronald was very keen on getting his hands on it and began pestering him about it, even after Hermione was done echoing Andie's reaction to his use of the potion, despite the fact that Harry had not revealed how he'd almost died.

"Do you know the recipe? Is there any more of it? C'mon Potter, tell me," Ron demanded and made his way to the front.

Harry sighed. "No, Ron. The recipe died with Gryffindor and I destroyed the only other vial. It's gone."

Ron was absolutely livid. "Why the bloody hell did you do that for? I, that is we could have used that in the war, Potter!" he snarled.

"Language, Ronald!" Molly berated him. Ron ignored his mother, however.

"Can you imagine what we could do with more people with all these abilities?"

Harry clenched his fists and tried to rein in his temper, but failed. "Yes, I can, but I would never have given that thing to you, Ron," he snapped.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly screeched and apologized profusely to Minerva.

The Weasley matron was clearly becoming quite angry with her son. Arthur also looked like he was ready to step in, because Ron's ears were starting to go red, a sure sign that he was losing it. Harry found it rather interesting that Hermione had evidently decided to stay out of it.

"I wouldn't give it to you, Weasley, because even if you managed to survive the transformation, the spirits in that potion would eat up your sanity and crap it out faster than my cousin Dudley does his breakfast. And then I'd have to put you down like a rabid dog."

Ron was practically frothing at the mouth by now. "You just didn't want anyone outshining you! You were a scrawny, weak little twat! If you could handle it, I could have, too!"

Harry simply shook his head. "Physical prowess has nothing to do with overcoming the spirits, Weasley. It's about willpower and self discipline and unfortunately, you don't have any. In fact, Minerva's probably the only person in this room I'd ever consider giving it to. I don't think I've ever met a person with more self discipline. Moody perhaps, but he'd never survive the transformation."

Before Ron could keep arguing, Fred locked him in a full body bind, and his brother crashed to the floor. "Sorry about him, Harry, dear," Molly said, as she levitated him to an unused sofa. "We'll just let him lie here, then," she declared as she lowered him onto the sofa with less care than Harry felt she could have used. "We may even finish this meeting that way," she finally muttered when she rejoined her husband.

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, but did not comment and resumed his tale. He told them about the visions sent by Fawkes. Hermione was very interested in learning more about the sphere and how it worked. When Harry came to his rescue of Lupin, he glanced over at Tonks, who told him to continue the tale, that she wanted to hear about it from his point of view.

Harry did and told them how he'd destroyed the Horcrux in Hufflepuff's cup the same way he'd done Slytherin's locket. He could see Hermione wanted to ask something, but he asked her to wait until he was done.

The twins and Arthur were especially thrilled when he told them he'd ridden Sirius' charmed motorcycle all the way to Albania. He only lightly touched on any dangers, since he was getting tired of being scolded by the women in the room. Eventually, he got to the attack on Bullswick and the fight with the giant but did not go into any detail and finally, he wound the tale down with the destroying of Rowena's diadem.


"Any questions?" Harry asked as he leaned against Minerva's desk. Naturally, he knew Hermione had a thousand questions and she was practically vibrating. But before she could say anything, Bill decided to ask a question that was had been troubling him ever since he saw the memory of Harry destroying the Horcrux in Slytherin's locket.

"How is it that you're able to destroy a Horcrux without destroying the container, when Professor Dumbledore had to destroy the gem in Gaunt's ring to get rid of that one?"

"I don't think he did, Bill," Harry said and picked up the ring from Minerva's desk. She had placed all the Horcruxes on the table as before.

"What do you mean?" Bill asked a little lost. "The gem is clearly cracked."

"You're assuming the ring was whole when Riddle created that Horcrux," Bellatrix said. "If my time at that bastard's side taught me anything it's that he's proud, petty and vindictive. It would not surprise me in the least to learn he'd broken the thing before he used it in the ritual. Merope's father treated his daughter horribly and I can see Riddle getting a little payback that way."

"But why? Doesn't it weaken the item?" Mr. Weasley asked then.

Bill shook his head."That's not really how it works, dad," he told his father. "If the ring was like that when the soul piece was put in there, it would have to break further in order for it to escape. Anyway, the Horcrux is clearly not in the ring any more and you say Dumbledore did not remove it, Harry?"

"I actually think Snape destroyed that one."

"What! How!" almost everyone in the room exclaimed, with Snape being the loudest.

"Look, the soul is not a physical object and cannot be destroyed via physical means, unless you have a Dementor around. The reason I could destroy the Horcrux in Riddle's diary is because it was becoming a living entity by feeding off of Ginny's life force. It had nothing to do with the Basilisk poison. Had I been strong enough, I could have destroyed it with a kitchen knife."

"What has that got to do with the ring, Potter?" Snape drawled from his corner.

"I'm getting to that, Snape," Harry said and walked behind Minerva's desk and removed Gryffindor's sword from the display case and examined it closely and his eyes came to a stop on a small chip in the sword's edge. He was extremely careful not to cut himself.

"Here's an interesting fact about this blade. I remember seeing a part of the Basilisk blood that coated the sword seep into it when I lay dying in the Chamber after being poisoned by the snake. Afterwards I was pretty confident I'd been hallucinating and was sure it hadn't happened."

"Potter-" Snape began.

Harry glared at the former potions teacher. "Snape, if you don't want to end up like Weasley over there, shut it!" The greasy git sneered at Harry, but did as he was told, amazingly enough. Every person in the room mentally froze the image in their heads, as no one wanted to forget that moment.

"Anyway, I told Dumbledore about the sword and he, as usual did not tell me anything. When I mentioned it to Gryffindor, he told me to be extra careful when handling the sword, since some goblin made weapons, this one included, have the ability to absorb some of the properties of the magical beasts slain with them.

I'm certain Dumbledore knew that and he no doubt took the sword with him and struck the ring with it. If you look closely, you can see the damage done to the blade, so obviously it did not work. Which is a good thing, actually, because if you destroy the container, the Horcrux can break loose. Where does it go? You can't see it and these things can latch onto almost anything. That's what makes them so dangerous; they are practically impossible to destroy safely."

Harry put the sword back in the case and closed it. "Anyway, then Dumbledore did the worst thing he could have. He picked it up and put it on and it will have attacked him immediately. Similar to the way the cup attacked Griphook. I just happened to arrive a few minutes after he picked up the cup and so it did little damage. It nearly killed him, still."

"His hand was black," Snape said and slowly made his way toward the table. "The Headmaster told me he'd been cursed by some kind of trap when he found the ring."

"And you believed that?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Potter-"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said with a wave of his hand. "I have no idea if all Horcruxes do it, but Riddle's try to entice you to pick them up when you come near them and then overtake your mind once you do. After Dumbledore picked it up, he was unable to eject it. I suspect only I can do that, but we'll come to that."

"But the professor was strong enough that it could not overpower him," Hermione reasoned.

"Yes," Harry said and nodded at his friend. "When its attack did not work, it poisoned the Headmaster in hopes of weakening his resolve. It may be a little morbid, but Snape actually did us a favour that night when he killed Dumbledore. The old man was at the end of his rope and would probably not have lasted the night."

"So you can destroy them because of your condition, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, that's exactly it."

"What condition is that, Potter?" Moody growled from a stuffed chair by the coffee table.

"You remember when I told you I was in possession of the last Horcrux?" Everyone nodded warily at that. "Well, it's in here," Harry said and pointed at his chest.


Tonks marched to the desk and stared at Harry. "What the bloody hell do you mean it's in there?" she asked and poked Harry in the chest painfully as her eyes bored into his.

She slowly morphed into a dark haired, dark eyed beauty that bore a startling resemblance to her mother and Bellatrix, which Harry assumed was the biggest reason why Tonks had always preferred to look completely different from her regular form. Now, to most everyone else, she looked angry, but all Harry could see was panic and fear. Andie placed a hand on her shoulders and squeezed tightly, ready to bring her into a hug.

"It's in my soul. It's been there since I was fifteen months old, Nym. And because I've been subjected to its influence for so long I've built a tolerance to their corruption."

"How do you take care of those things, then?" Bill asked.

"I draw them in and overload them with my love for you all. Riddle's soul is so black and vile, it cannot live in a container that has even an sliver of love. Dumbledore told me the power Riddle knew not was love, and he was right, in a way. Of course, Riddle also created the very thing that will lead to his downfall."

"And here?" Tonks asked softly and placed a gentle hand on Harry's chest.

Harry shook his head. "No. That one isn't going anywhere, Nym. It's there to stay. And as far as anyone knows, the only way to remove a Horcrux from a living being is to kill it."

"But Harry," Hermione began and ignored the shocked faces of most of the people in the room. "If Moody was able to kill Nagini and destroy the Horcrux, that means anyone can destroy a Horcrux-"

Harry stopped his friend with a raised hand. "Hermione, would you really be willing ask or force someone to allow a Horcrux to possess them and then kill them? I'm not. And besides, can you do it right away, or would we have to wait for it to merge properly with the person? If that's the case, we'd have to keep it safe for a time. Dumbledore had the Horcrux in him for a few months. Will that be enough for everybody, or is it different between people? The variables are too many for it to be feasible. Besides, it's a moot point, now that they've all been destroyed."

Tonks grabbed Harry's shirt and yanked him down to her level. "How can you be so calm about this?!"

Harry pried Tonks' hands loose and hugged her to him. "I made my peace a long time ago, Nym." Harry said when he released her. "But there is a chance it may not come to that, actually." Harry took out the map the others had brought earlier and rolled it out on the table. "The supposed birthplace of the Horcruxes. Recently discovered and known only to Gringotts and now, us."

Bill walked up to the desk and examined the map closely. "Ah, Hamunaptra. Of course. The Egyptian were obsessed with death. I can see they've made very little headway into the ruin itself. Are you saying they are willing to allow you entry?"

"Yes. LeChuck has been made aware of what's going on and has given permission for me, a curse breaker and two others. I was going to request volunteers, actually."

"I'm in," Tonks said at once, and by the look on her face, Harry knew it would be useless to try and talk her out of it.

"Nymphadora, it's too soon," Andie said. "You need time to grieve."

"No, Mum. I have to do this. I'll go insane with worry, otherwise. And don't use that name!"

Fleur approached and stood beside Tonks. "You need a curse breaker, Harry. I will be it," the French Veela said with finality.

Bill wasn't happy with that declaration. "Fleur, you can't make a decision like that on your own. We need to talk about this."

"He's right, Fleur. I thank you for the support, but please, do not rush into this. It will be extremely dangerous," Harry said.

Fleur sent Harry her coldest look and he almost froze to death. "Alright, I will talk with William, but I have made my decision. I am going and that is final. Do not ask for volunteers if you cannot accept those who do volunteer, Harry. It's bad form."

Bellatrix laughed out loud at the Veela and the expression on Harry's face. "You might want to simply accept it, Harry. She's not taking a no for an answer. And neither am I."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, before he turned to the women and smiled at them. "Thank you," he said, a little moved by their unwavering support. "But there's something we need to before we leave. Moody?"

"Aye, lad?"

"What is your plan to retake the Ministry, and how quickly can we set out?"

The silence that met Harry's words was almost comical. Moody's magical eye spun in its socket and the old man stared at Harry, who grinned at the room. "Oh, come off it, you lot. Did you honestly think Alastor bloody Moody wouldn't have a plan in place to reclaim the Ministry, should the opportunity present itself?"

Moody and Minerva shared a glance, before Moody barked out a laugh. "Right you are, lad. I do have about a dozen people stationed in the Ministry that only need a few hours notice. Since the Order has always been a reactionary force, they will not expect us to attack the Ministry, of all things, and we will take them unawares. And I think this may just be the best time, with Riddle running scared."

"Alright. Think we can do it tonight?"

"Aye."

Harry then turned to Narcissa. "How quickly do you suppose we could convene the Wizengamot?"

"Tomorrow morning, at the latest, Harry. There's an emergency protocol, which states they, or their proxy be available at all times, particularly when a ranking member calls for an emergency meeting."

Harry nodded and turned to Neville. "Your grandmother is the acting Chief Warlock, right, mate?"

Neville gave a nod. "Yeah, she is."

"You mind contacting her? And ask her to bring Susan and Hannah, please."

Neville nodded without a word and quit the room, after giving Ginny a chaste kiss. Harry turned to the rest of the people. "Alright, let's get to it, people. Mr. Weasley, Hermione and Narcissa, could you come with me for a bit, I need to talk to you in private."


Harry entered Minerva's quarters and offered the others a seat. Hermione and Mr. Weasley sat down at the end of the coffee table while Harry and Narcissa sat down facing the fire.

"What was it you needed to talk to us about, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"I know Narcissa gave Hermione two copies of my notes earlier and one was meant for you, Mr. Weasley and the rest of your family. Did you have a chance to read it?"

"It's Arthur to you Harry, and yes, I did read it. I must say, I find it rather ambitious. Do you think you have any hope of realizing it?"

"Not without help. Some time ago, I went to Gringotts and I made a will. A little after that, I went and I amended it and did something you may not like, but I hope you'll accept the responsibility."

"Harry, what did you do?" Hermione asked, a little apprehensive. Narcissa, however was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression.

"Well, Hermione, you're looking at the heir of the House of Black."

While Hermione's and Arthur's faces fell in almost comical fashion, Narcissa had to fight the urge to throw her fist in the air. She had guessed almost immediately what he'd wanted to talk about and what he'd done when he had asked Arthur to join them and she was very happy to find she had been right.

As for what would come next, she was certain she'd guessed that one right as well and it was utterly delicious. She watched Arthur closely and smiled when he got over his shock and a look of understanding dawned on him.

Harry had made such a good choice. Arthur was very sharp, and while he generally did not speak up during Wizengamot sessions, whenever he did, it was always worth listening to and only the greatest fools dismissed him out of hand. Fools such as her former husband and most of his allies, who judged Arthur because of his hobbies. Idiots.

"I suppose it's for the best, as things stand. I know the workings of the Wizengamot, of course and we do not want the title to go to the the next person in line. I don't like it, but I do understand, Harry. I will accept if you promise to change it once the war is over."

"Of course, if I'm able," Harry said and the two men shook hands.

Narcissa took pity on Hermione, who was looking a little lost. "Miss Granger, if the Head of a House is the last of his generation and makes no prior arrangements, the title of Head is automatically passed down to the next generation. In the case of the Black family, the Head must always be a male. Now, Sirius had a problem; he had no children, and Regulus was dead and Andie only had the one daughter."

"It would have gone to your son," Hermione deduced.

"Mr. Malfoy's offspring, yes," Narcissa amended coldly. "Similarly, if Harry had not made any arrangements and died, Draco would have been made Head. My cousin knew Harry was a Black through his great great grandmother Dorea, which enabled Sirius to make him his heir. Now, in this case Harry's able to make Arthur his heir, because Arthur is a Black through his grandmother Cedrella. Cedrella was disowned, but it doesn't matter. Blood is blood."

Narcissa turned to Harry, who was grinning at Hermione. "I'm a bit surprised you knew this, Harry. Severus seemed to think Dumbledore would not have told you any of it. Although, Sirius may have done so, I suppose."

Harry nodded. "He gave me a brief tour of the family tapestry once and I remembered some of the branches of the tree."

"Ah. Well, if aunt Walburga was still alive, I can imagine quite a few burn marks would have been added over the next few months. Oh, just think what she'll say when I tell her who stands to inherit everything, if the worst happens. I cannot wait to go to Nr. Twelve."

"Can I please be there when you tell her?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Naturally. I must show her my new man, Harry," Narcissa said and everyone at the table shared a quiet laugh.

"She must have been such a horrid woman," Hermione said and shook her head.

Arthur and Narcissa shared a look. "She was much worse than that, Miss Granger," Cissy said.

"Anyway, moving on," Harry said. "You all know me and understand I do not have any desire or patience to actually spend any time in the Wizengamot, if I can help it. Cissy, I think you already know what I'm going to ask of you."

"I suppose you only want me for the Black Seat," Narcissa said with a cute pout.

The woman yelped in surprise when Harry grabbed her and pulled her on top of him to give her a toe curling kiss that lasted much longer than was proper.

"I want you for all kind of things, you temptress, but we have company."

Once the pair of them had collected themselves, Harry turned his attention on Hermione, who was trying to look at anything besides him and Narcissa, while Arthur seemed particularly interested in a picture of Hogwarts that graced one of the walls.

"How about it, Hermione? Fancy becoming the first Muggleborn on the Wizengamot as the Potter proxy?"

His friend stared at him like he'd lost his marbles. "Harry, they will never accept it."

"It's not up to them," Harry said with a grin. "The law, passed by the Wizengamot itself, clearly states you only have to be an off age, British witch or wizard. Blood status is irrelevant."

Arthur nodded along with Harry. "Harry's right, Hermione," he said with a smile. "Perhaps it's time we set a few traditions aside and created some of our own."

The bushy haired girl was silent for a while. "If you're sure, Harry?" Hermione eventually asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. If I die, you're the lynchpin that will hold everything together. The Muggleborn will look to you as an example of what they can achieve and I should think most of the half bloods will support you as well. It would be a sign of change and that's the first step and it may make everything else so much easier. You'll be fine. Arthur and Narcissa will help you."

Hermione took a deep breath, which she released slowly. "Alright, then. I'd be honoured to, Harry," she said and flashed him a brilliant smile.


"So, the plan is, we Floo into the Ministry?" Harry asked.

"Aye," Moody said. "A few trusted Aurors will take over the Floo Administration Office, down on level six. We will station ourselves around Hogsmeade and once they're done, they will flash the fireplaces and we'll go through, three per Floo. Unfortunately, the Ministry only has nine fireplaces capable of Floo travel; eight in the Atrium and and a special one in the Minister's office that's under his direct control."

"So, we'll have to fight our way to the first floor to get to a man that will either have run,or will be bringing in reinforcements. That's fantastic," Harry said and rolled his eyes. "Still, you know the Ministry inside and out, Moody, so it's no doubt the best way. Oh, before I forget, does anyone have my wand?"

Kingsley reached into his robes and extracted a very familiar Holly wand. Harry reached out and grabbed it and smiled euphorically when he felt the warmth of the connection run through him and he shuddered heavily.

It felt amazing, like taking a hot shower after playing around in the snow. Harry placed the wand in a slot on the inside of the arm brace on his right arm and found his arm was just long enough for him to move it unhindered.

"I think I'm going to go down in the box," Harry declared. "It should divert the attention toward the Atrium, making things easier for the Aurors. Anyone care to join?" Unsurprisingly, Bella and Tonks made their way to his side.

Harry turned to Minerva and gave her a kiss, not caring one bit who saw his blatant show of affection. That didn't mean he had not noticed the various shocked looks, which he actually kind of enjoyed. "It's going to be fine. We'll be fine."

"I know, Harry. I wish I could go with you, but my place is here, with my students."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way, Minerva," Harry said and pulled of the Keystone and placed it around her neck. "This should be yours, as Headmistress. Keep it safe."

He then turned toward Hermione and Narcissa, both of whom were looking at him with rather irritated expressions. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you two to remain here. You understand why."

"That doesn't mean we have to like it, Harry," Hermione said with a scowl. "I just got you back, I hate watching you go."

"Come on, Miss Granger," Narcissa said and placed a hand on her arm. "Let us retire to Minerva's quarters for some some tea. There are some things I need to discuss with you."

"Alright, people, let's go!" Harry said firmly and the group set out.


"McGonagall, eh, Harry?" Tonks joked as she and Harry and Bella stood on a rooftop overlooking the out-of-order telephone box that housed the visitors entrance to the Ministry of Magic.

"Oh, yeah," Bella whispered to her niece. "Harry's a real Casanova," she said and gave Harry a shit-eating grin, which made Tonks snicker loudly.

"Would you two focus on what we're doing here? It's rather a big deal," Harry said, annoyed.

"You know, those two idiots they have guarding the entrance, really have no idea how to their job," Bella said as she watched a man and a woman in plain, Muggle clothing walk around the phone box.

"Honestly, is there not a single competent git in Flat Face's army?" Tonks wondered out loud as she, too watched the pair.

Bella shook her head dismissively. "Not since I left, apparently," she replied with a sneer.

Harry wasn't as experienced as Tonks, especially with her training, so he had to ask. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for starters," Tonks replied, "there's only two of them, and they're both walking in the same pattern over and over again, which makes them rather easy to identify. When guarding an entrance, you should always have at least three people; two close by what ever you're guarding, and a third somewhere with a good view of the area. If you're attacked, that person goes for help, obviously."

"And those idiots seem intent on staying within the notice-me-not field that protects the phone box, which is a really foolish thing to do," Bella said and grinned at her niece, who winked in return and with that, the pair disappeared. Harry barely saw them flicker into existence by the phone box where they stunned the two guards and Apparated back onto the rooftop and hit the two unconscious people with an Incarcerous.

All this happened without the Muggles becoming aware of them. Harry stared at the two prisoners with a blank look. How the bloody hell had Riddle managed to almost overtake Britain with people like that?

So, Harry, you ready?" Bellatrix asked.

"Yeah, let's go."

The three of them Apparated right to the phone box and entered the rectangle, which expanded to accommodate them. When the familiar mechanical voice in the box asked them to state their purpose, Harry grinned, answered and three name tags were released from the slot on the wall. Harry Potter Liberator. The trio pinned the tags on the front of their clothes and the box descended quickly with a whoosh.

The lift finally stopped and opened to allow the visitors entry onto the Atrium and Harry's eyes immediately focused on a large sculpture at the centre. At first the base looked like a large slab of rock, hewn in a rough rectangle shape that was uneven in the middle, and carved in the rock were the words 'Magic is Might'.

And on top sat a witch and wizard, staring proudly at the world. Harry's eyes slid down to the base again and realized the rock wasn't uneven. A horde of starving, broken and defeated Muggles could be seen trying to escape from their fate, but were obviously failing.

"This is new," Tonks said softly and peered up at Harry, who was staring at the grotesque statue with utter revulsion and contempt. He stepped forward slowly, his gaze hardening with each step.

"Harry," Tonks began, but was cut short by her aunt, who clasped her shoulder and shook her head. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were quite a few people milling about the atrium and the witch manning the reception desk smiled at Harry, before she noticed the scar on his forehead.

Her eyes found the tag on his breast and the sword peeking from behind his shoulder. She stole a quick glance at his companions and recognized them at once. She flashed him a tiny smile, before she dashed away at a run.

Harry took a deep breath and made a sweeping gesture with both his arms and a massive gust of wind flew towards the floor of the atrium and within a second, the floor by the statue was cleared of people. Harry marched on and felt his power build steadily and he thrust his hands forward one after the other and started blowing the statue apart piece by piece, starting with the pointy hats. Then the heads and hands and with a mighty roar, he slowly thrust both hands forwards, palms together, before moving them apart, the veins in his neck and forehead bulging with the effort.

A large crack formed in the centre and ran the length of the statue and slowly, but surely, the two halves were brought apart, until they fell and broke into countless pieces. All of this had taken less than twenty seconds, but Harry was panting and sweating with the effort and Bellatrix thought he was lucky that most of the people had stopped to stare at his awesome display of power.

There was a little commotion to the left and this time, it was Tonks who had to restrain her aunt as they watched a toad wearing a pink cardigan make her way across the atrium. She was surrounded by a half dozen Aurors, two of whom raised an eyebrow at Harry, as a sign of recognition.

"How dare you come in here and show such blatant disrespect for the Ministry of Magic!" Umbridge screeched as she stared at the broken statue, before turning toward the newcomers and regarded them with disdain. Her eyes eventually found Harry's forehead.

"You," she said and sneered at Harry, who smirked at her in return.

"'Tis I!" Harry exclaimed dramatically and bowed mockingly. "Harry Potter himself, come to grace you with my presence, hoping against hope, to sway you of this unrighteous path of ruin you have chosen, Madame Umbitch."

Umbridge did not acknowledge Harry's performance with a reply and turned her eyes on Bellatrix and took a step back when she felt the pure, unfiltered hatred the former Lestrange obviously felt for her. She squared her shoulders and smiled that sickening, simpering smile Harry had always found so disgusting.

"Bellatrix Lestrange. I'd heard rumours you had allied yourself with substandard beings," she began and sneered at Harry and Tonks. "However, I have to admit, I was reluctant to believe that a witch of such fine stock would sink to such lows. To allow yourself to lie with such disgusting filth!" She laughed condescendingly and pointed to Harry before adding, "that thing isn't even human. You truly are insane."

Bella moved to stand beside Harry and stared down her nose at the pink clad woman, every inch the pureblood princess. Cold fury shone out of her eyes and this time, Umbridge was properly cowed before a superior presence. Bellatrix turned to Harry and grabbed his hand to run her thumb across the scars made by the infamous blood quill.

"You hurt my Harry and he still bears the marks." Bella took a step toward Umbridge, who almost fell over in her haste to back away from her. "I may be free from Riddle and Lestrange, but I still remember everything I did. Every spell, every curse. I swear to you now; if you so much as touch a hair on Harry's head ever again, I will make certain that once I'm done with you, people will say what I did to the Longbottoms will have been a gentle caress."

Dreadfully embarrassed, Umbridge made to reply, but was cut short when Harry snorted derisively. "You know, I always wondered why the purebloods have to use their status to get anywhere in the wizarding world and this conversation has finally revealed the truth."

"Care to share with the rest of us, Harry?" Tonks asked and grinned, since she knew Harry was about to say or do something she'd most likely find rather amusing.

"Well, Tonksie, it must be about the brains."

"Brains?" Tonks asked, looking a little confused.

Harry chuckled. "Well, yeah. I can't think of a single person with at least half a brain who would antagonize Bellatrix like that and expect to live. Pretty bonkers, wouldn't you say? And if the pureblood Slytherins of my generation are any indication, we are in serious trouble. I mean Crabbe, Goyle, Flint and Malfoy? Parkinson? These halfwits are the crop of the cream? Merlin help us, 'cause we're well and truly fucked."

Umbridge was seething. "You dare..."

"Yes, I bloody dare!" Harry snarled and pointed at the toad, who trembled in fear. "And if more people did and if those in power weren't such self serving little shits, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess!"

Harry was about to give Umbridge en earful, when the fireplaces around the atrium burst to life and one by one, the members of the Order came through, wands at the ready and stunned the Aurors that had arrived with The Senior Undersecretary. Umbridge gave a startled yelp and tried to scurry away, only to be manhandled by the two Aurors that had acknowledged Harry earlier.

Apparently, the people Moody had planted in the Ministry had been very successful in infiltrating the various positions in the Ministry since they had been able to plant themselves in her protective detail, which Harry assumed had happened sometime after he and the others had taken care of the Snatchers.

Harry advanced on The Umbitch and stared at her with open contempt, before turning his gaze upon the ruined statue behind her. He held out his hand for her wand, which one of the two Aurors handed over. Harry stared at his enemy and deliberately broke the apparatus in two in front of her face and threw the pieces away. Then he pulled his own wand out of the arm brace. Umbridge clearly wanted to say something nasty, but uncharacteristically, she kept silent.

"You like this statue so much?" Harry asked in mock cheer. "Then perhaps you should be a part of it!" Harry exclaimed and moved his wand in a pattern and couple of iron bars appeared out of thin air. Harry motioned for the two men who held the toad to let go and once they did, he flicked his wand which caused the iron bars to wrap themselves around the squat woman and then, with a final move of the wand, sent the her flying into the statue and the ends of the iron bars bored into the granite and held fast.

"You can stay here until we're done with cleaning out the Ministry," Harry said and turned toward his companions. "Let's go!"


There you go. Chapter fourteen.

There was a reviewer, who wanted a picture of Minerva, and I searched around for a good long while. There's a certain quality I'm looking for in anyone who would be her, but not one of the pictures I looked at really had it, but eventually, I settled on this piece, done by Dropdeadcoheed, on Deviantart. He's fantastic, be sure to check him out. Anyway, what do you think?

www. deviantart dropdeadcoheed/art/Louraine-Croft-630092466

I put spaces in the address, so please remove them.