Over the next three days, FitzSkimmons kept on the move, finding a new town and a new hotel to stay in each night as they scouted the Scottish Highlands for the best abandoned castle to make their base of operations once Harry turned seventeen.
And on the morning of Harry's birthday, Fitz was awoken by a kiss from Daisy.
"Sorry dear that Jemma's lips weren't on yours and mine further south like normal, but the wifey's still asleep, and you were muttering what I assume was a vision from Harry.
"I'm just as happy to be awoken being kissed by you as by Jemma," Fitz replied sincerely. "But uh, yeah, Harry was having a dream — and we've apparently had a really calm last while in our real lives for his dreams to come through so clearly, instead of my normal nightmares or just weird-ass dreams."
"Ass? I must be rubbing off on you," smirked Daisy.
"Terrible, isn't it?" Fitz smirked back. "But weird-ass sounds better than weird-arse."
"What's terrible is that we're awake on Fitz's birthday and still clothed, without any certain body parts inside certain other body parts," mumbled Simmons from the other side of Fitz. "Can't we talk about dream dreams later, and you fulfill my dream of being filled by you right now?"
Fitz didn't need to be told twice.
But eventually birthday morning celebrations were over, and everyone was properly satiated, and Daisy returned to the subject of what Harry had been dreaming about.
"You kept muttering 'Gregorovitch' before I woke you up," she said.
"Gregorovitch? That name sounds familiar," said Fitz. "But I never saw the man, only that Riddle is looking for him, and I think somewhere on the other side of the Channel. Mountains, small town — could have been anywhere really, I didn't specifically recognize it."
"He's Viktor Krum's wandmaker," said Simmons. "Ollivander mentioned him at the Weighing of the Wands during the TriWizard Tournament."
"So Riddle wants a new wand? What for?" asked Daisy.
"The fact he lost his dual against Harry in the graveyard?" offered Simmons. "Thinks a wand that isn't Harry's brother will work better? Thinks there's some super-special wand out there that's more powerful than his old one and supersedes the whole wand picks the witchlet spiel that Ollivander repeats basically every other sentence?"
Fitz shrugged. "Maybe. But if we can shoot him in the back with Avada all at the same time, it won't matter what wand he has. He could be as strong as Thor or Ironman's suit and strong enough to shoulder fire a Ma Deuce — if it could be rigged up to fire like that — but unless he's got some armor-plating skin, a .22 to the exact right spot where his spine meets his head will still kill him."
"Speaking of spells to kill, you should be free to do all the magic you like now, birthday boy," said Daisy. "Although that is an idea, to conjure three Ma Deuces and see if he can defend against that with magic. Or conjure an M107A1 and snipe him from two miles — are there any spells to increase accuracy, since none of us can shoot the wings off a fly from fifty yards, so long as the gun isn't an ounce too heavy? Or just call in the big guns, and drop some missiles from an F-35 on his head."
"You know, you're right about Harry being able to do magic now — we need to test that, make sure we can actually start our mission now," said Simmons. "Fitz, you need to cast a spell, any spell, and then we'll wait for a while watching the windows and ready to fight or apparate away at a moment's notice, if this didn't work."
Put on the spot, Fitz's brain straight away forgot every single spell he'd ever learned, so in the end he just went with a very simple spell, Wingardium Leviosa from first year, to fling a pillow at Daisy's head where she had started trying to nibble on Jemma's neck again while he and Jemma were trying to be serious adults and make sure they were free to perform magic now.
As they began waiting the fifteen minutes they had decided was long enough to be on super high alert for, Fitz asked, "You know, what would be the result of trying to snipe or bomb Riddle? It's obviously not something we can do at the moment, as at least I don't know how to conjure any gun, let alone a good sniper rifle, and I don't think all three of us combined will be conjuring an F-35 and missiles any time soon, even if it should theoretically be possible to conjure them, and we can't call up Fury even if Shield does exist here — but the idea seems sound. But you're the spell expert, Jemma."
"I would assume spells exist for deflecting physical objects and not just spells — though off the top of my head, I can't remember the shield charm ever being used against physical objects," answered Simmons. "But even assuming they do, or it can be done, if the wizard in question is not expecting to be hit by physical objects, and therefore doesn't have a physical object shield up, it doesn't matter that such a charm does exist. It's like owning body armor, but not wearing it — you'll still get hit. Also, I have no idea how magic functions when it gets hit repeatedly over a very short period of time, if it begins breaking down like physical objects do when repeatedly hit. But to answer your question, I do think it would be completely possible to snipe or bomb Riddle to death if you knew where he was, had the resources, and had the talent. We unfortunately are lacking all three at the moment."
"What we're also lacking is birthday presents for the birthday boy," interjected Daisy. Turning to Fitz, she continued, "I'm afraid all of your presents are at The Burrow. Although, that might be a good thing when it comes to Ron/Ronna's gift — it was a book called Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches that he got from the twins."
"Ways to Charm Witches?" questioned Simmons, shaking her head. "I think the 0-8-4 really screwed up here — it would be highly unlikely for a girl to get their best male friend a book on getting girls into bed. Although, I guess it was kind of stuck on options, since Ways to Charm a Wizard wouldn't work, either."
"Unless it was intended by the 0–8-4 as a not so subtle hint to Harry to get to asking his two best friends to marry him already," replied Daisy, before smirking, "Not that our Fitzy here needs any book to teach him how to charm a girl — I think he's doing pretty good all on his own. I mean, he got you, didn't he?"
"And you!" exclaimed Simmons. "You're charm-worthy as well!"
"Yeah, yeah," brushed off Daisy. "So what did Hermione get him?"
"A new Sneakoscope," answered Simmons, letting Daisy's change of subject go. "Which is something else we really need to add to our list of things to get Kreacher to get us from The Burrow. It would actually be useful, unlike Twelve Ways to Charm the Knickers off a Witch, or whatever it was called."
"Yeah, something like that," said Fitz, rolling his eyes. "But on a far more serious note, what is all on our list now of things we need to get?"
"Well, we need the sword, plus the horcruxes we need to destroy," answered Simmons. "All that was destroyed at the end of last year was the diary and the ring, and Harry got the fake locket, which is over there in our travel bag. So we need to get the real locket, which is in Grimmauld, the cup, which we never figured out where was, and the diadem, which we never figured out where Riddle hid in Hogwarts. And then Nagini at the same time as Riddle."
"Hold on, hold on, hold on..." Fitz muttered, closing his eyes and thinking hard. "Harry's seen that diadem. Last year, when he hid Snape's Potion book — he took it to the big RoR. In there, he hid it in a cupboard he marked by a tiara on a bust." Looking back up at his wives, he finished definitively, "It was the diadem."
"So we've got two of the three before we can face Riddle himself," said Daisy.
"I'll be happier when they're in our hands and destroyed," replied Simmons, looking over at Daisy. "And Hufflepuff's Cup is still a problem for us, not to mention actually getting a meeting with Riddle and his pet."
By the time they finished talking, more than enough time had passed, and still no Death Eaters or Ministry stooges were knocking their door down. Confident that they were finally free, the three of them set off hiking a few miles away from the hotel they were abandoning the car at so they could apparate to a short five mile hike to the castle they had decided on the day before. They wanted to make sure if anyone did ever try tracing their route, it would be that much harder to follow, especially as there were three other castles within a closer walk to the point they had apparated to, and they had apparated into the backyard of a castle as it was.
Once settled in to their new home, and the protective enchantments and wards of Hermione's research were in place, they decided it was time to call Kreacher and get their soul searching expedition underway.
"Kreacher!" called Fitz.
A second later, the ancient house elf cracked into existence in front of them.
"Master," he croaked contemptuously, glaring at Fitz for a second before bowing low, muttering on, "with the blood-traitor Weasley and the mudblood."
"Oh, great, we have to go through this again," Fitz sighed to himself.
But before he could address Kreacher, Daisy said teasingly, "Aww, is someone Mister Grumpy-Pants today?"
"Not helping, Daisy," Fitz growled over his shoulder at his younger wife, before turning back to Kreacher. "Kreacher, a few new rules. One, if there is anyone around us, call us Harry, Hermione, and Ronna, respectively. If not, if it's just us and you, call us Fitz, Simmons, and Daisy. Now, if it will make you feel any better to add any insults in front of or behind our names — things like blood-traitor, mudblood, prat, etc — then you are more than welcome to, we don't give two shits.
"Second, you will obey my wives, Simmons and Daisy, the same as you have to me. And also Nymphadora Tonks, the metamorphmagus of Black lineage, should that ever come up. Third, you will tell no one that we're married, or our other names, and you will also tell no one outside of the three of us where we are. If any of the three of us ask where either of the other two is, you will answer us, and truthfully.
"And fourth, we need you to bring us a list of things in utmost secrecy. Firstly, we need Master Regulus's locket from Grimmauld Place that you stole back after someone tossed it in the rubbish when we were all there a few summers back, so we can destroy it for him and complete Master Regulus's task he assigned you all those years ago."
That got the ancient house elf's attention in a hurry.
"Master Regulus's locket?" he croaked out in disbelief. At Fitz's nod, he shut his eyes and shivered, "It's gone. Mundungus Fletcher stole it all; Miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and — and — and the locket, Master Regulus's locket! Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"
"Yes, yes, we know, and that's what we're trying to fix, Kreacher," said Simmons soothingly, kneeling down next to him. "We can destroy it, but we need it first. So can you please go get it from him, along with a few other things we need in order to destroy it?"
"But don't bring Dung here," Daisy interjected quickly. "Unless we specifically tell you to bring someone here, never bring anyone here. This is a top secret hideout, and we'd like it to stay that way."
"Right," agreed Simmons. "So are you capable of going and doing that for us? Retrieving the locket back from Fletcher, without him knowing you were ever there?"
Kreacher nodded slowly, his bat-like ears flopping.
"Good then," said Fitz. "Now what do we need him to pick up first, since that might take a while?"
"Everything we left in our hotel room and car — trunks, brooms, all of that stuff. Then from The Burrow, all of my books, my beaded bag — basically all of my belongings that are at The Burrow," said Simmons. "And both Hermione and Ronna's clothes, since Daisy and I have been having to wear the same clothes every day, Hermione and Ronna inconsiderately not having brought their trunks with them to rescue Harry."
"We just going to wear the different colored, identical clothes that everyone was wearing when we showed up?" asked Fitz.
"It's not like we're going to be seeing the same people every day like at school," answered Simmons, "and I don't want to waste what money we do have on clothes, so we should be fine. Anyway, it's something we can revisit later if we need to, though hopefully we won't be here long enough for it to really matter."
"And food?" asked Daisy. "Both immediately, and for as long as we're here."
"Kreacher can cook for us in Grimmauld and just bring it here, or anywhere we go," answered Simmons. "And we've still got enough muggle money to survive while Kreacher's off finding Dung, plus there's a sizable amount more that Hermione nicked from her parents after she changed their memories and sent them away. We should be fine, and there are food-related spells Hermione knows and has books about."
"And we need the sword as well," said Daisy. "Or should that be after he gets the locket?"
"No, you're right, that should probably be first," said Fitz. "It's stationary, so unless there's a bunch of difficult wards on either Dumbledore's office, or the glass case itself, it should be quicker and easier to get, and it would be nice to already have that as soon as we get the locket." Looking back at Kreacher, he said, "We need you to steal the Sword of Gryffindor from the headmaster's office at Hogwarts as well, so we actually can destroy the locket.
"And Kreacher, I must repeat the urgency that this all be done in complete and utter secrecy. No one at The Burrow, or anywhere else, can know you've been there. They'll eventually see that all of Hermione and Ronna's stuff is gone, but nothing can tie you to having ever been there. And secrecy is much more important than time. We'd like all our stuff soon, but take the time you need to make sure it's done in secret. Understand?"
"Yes, Fitz, Simmons, Daisy," croaked Kreacher, bowing to Fitz, and half bowing to Simmons and Daisy.
"Oh, and one last thing," said Fitz. "Get yourself some nicer, newer, cleaner outfits, and once these initial missions are over, we want you to clean Grimmauld Place up so it's spotless. It's your house to take care of, so do it however you like, so long as everything dangerous is locked away, and decorate it whatever way makes you happy — or as happy as you can be, anyway. So go — The Burrow first unless it's too crowded, in which case Hogwarts. And just bring everything here in as many trips as you need, I don't know the magical carrying capacity of a house elf."
~FSK~
When Kreacher returned after a few hours, several trips from The Burrow, and now a trip from Hogwarts with the Sword of Gryffindor, they paused him for a second to ask a question.
"Kreacher, we know you can apparate inside of Hogwarts where wizards can't, so can you apparate wizards inside of Hogwarts?" Simmons asked him. "Could you take us into and out of Hogwarts without being detected?"
"House elves can transport humans into and out of places warded against apparation, and into places protected by the Fidelius Charm without being given its location by the secret keeper, just like owls can," croaked Kreacher.
Taking that to be a 'yes', Fitz said, "We need to get the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw from the Room of Requirement. The three of us are going to disillusion ourselves and get under our invisibility cloak, and when I tell you, I want you to take us to the seventh floor hallway with the tapestry depicting the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach trolls ballet — know the one?"
Kreacher nodded.
"Then we'll go get what we need."
As expected, there were almost no dots moving about on the Marauder's Map since it was the middle of the summer, and none within a few floors of the RoR corridor. So at Fitz's command, Kreacher beebopped them into the castle, directly across from the secret door.
As Simmons watched the map to make sure no one was coming, and Daisy watched her husband's strong, muscular walk thanks to all those double digit pushups he'd still been doing, Fitz paced back and forth in front of the magical wall three times, thinking, 'I need a place to hide my book...I need a place to hide my book...I need a place to hide my book…'. On the final pass, the door appeared into the wall.
Entering the room, the three of them found the cathedral-like room exactly as Harry had seen it a few months before, stretching out into the horizon, isles upon isles of stuff, junk, contraband, crap, and everything else conceivable under the sun.
"The book wasn't kidding when it talked about this room," Simmons said in awe.
"So is this the real Library, or like Warehouse 12 or something?" asked Daisy.
"It would still have to be Warehouse 13, that one was around long before the mid nineties," answered Fitz. "But it could be a back entrance into the garbage section of the Warehouse. Can't be the Library, that one's too orderly — almost as much as Jemma's lab."
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or insult," replied Simmons as Fitz began leading them through the rows to where the diadem was not so lost as commonly thought.
"Complisult?" offered Daisy. "Insulment?"
"Compliment — an insult would be something along the lines of saying that you insisted everywhere you lived be that tidy, given the fact that Daisy and I aren't that neat," answered Fitz, ignoring Daisy who was still muttering possible portmanteaus under her breath to herself. "The word 'neat freak' might also come up, which it didn't."
"Pretty sure Daisy would be calling me a neat freak if she wasn't too busy coming up with ways to combine 'compliment' and 'insult'," smirked Simmons.
Winding their way through the piles, they eventually made it to the cupboard that Harry had hid Snape's potion book in the year before. And crowning the ugly bust that was sitting on top of the cupboard, was a piece of Riddle's soul chillin' in a beautiful, though admittedly tarnished tiara.
As Fitz carefully took it off and placed it delicately on top of Simmons' hair, the English girl said, "You know, Snape's book should still be in here — Harry never removed it, and I can't imagine anyone else did either by some pure coincidence."
"Lovely crown, dear," smirked Daisy as she kissed Simmons on the cheek while leaning through her to open the cupboard and pull out Snape's book, with all the improved instructions he'd maliciously kept from his students during the decade and a half he'd taught Potions.
"I could have got that," said Simmons as they began to walk back out. "I was closer — you literally had to reach around me to get it."
"And possibly have your new crown fall off?" replied Daisy in mock disbelief. "I think not five-years-older-than-me-but-still-young woman!"
Before they opened the door to walk back out into the seventh floor corridor, Simmons checked the map once more, but that section of the castle remained completely empty, and a quick call for Kreacher and they were back in their own castle completely undetected. Once Kreacher was off again in search of the locket, FitzSkimmons carried the sword and the tiara into one of the many abandoned rooms that they weren't using.
"So how do we do this without ruining the diadem?" asked Daisy. "Because Jemma will look drop-dead gorgeous in it and an evening dress at Riddle's death party. And would probably look pretty good in just it on Hermione's birthday when we retire to our bedroom in the evening to celebrate."
"Do you ever think about anything besides sex?" asked Simmons, rolling her eyes at her wife. But after a second she added, "Though it would be a travesty to destroy this work of art if we didn't have to."
"I'm afraid that probably isn't possible based on all the other horcruxes we've seen," said Fitz. "Diary has a stab hole, the stone in the ring was cracked, and with the locket the insides were shattered."
"A cracked stone would be fine," replied Daisy. "Just add some character to the diadem. And didn't Dumbledore say he used the sword to kill the ring?"
"Okay, so how would we do that instead of slicing it in half sort of like the locket?" mused Fitz.
"Two ideas," answered Simmons, picking the diadem up off the table where she'd set it to look at it closer. "One would be to stab one of the stones. The other, would be laying it flat on its front, bringing the sword down on the exposed back, the part that normally goes against the wearers' head, and hoping like the locket that it doesn't actually slice it in half like you would expect it to — that it's protected by some kind of enchantment that keeps the metal from being cleaved straight in two. The second option is the riskier one for the diadem, but the safer one for making sure we've actually destroyed the horcrux."
"Is the diary the only one of these that's going to try to kill us before we kill it?" asked Daisy. "Because it tried to kill both Harry and Ginevra, but the locket put up no fight, and Dumbledore said his blackened hand wasn't from the horcrux itself, though he never told us what it was from."
"I think it's because the diary was fed and nurtured, if you remember," answered Simmons. "Ginevra poured her emotions into it for months writing in it, and Harry wrote in it some too, along with going into its — well, vision-like thing that's kind of like what a pensieve does — whereas none of the others has anyone interacted with long enough for the soul bit inside to feed off of and grow. It's just a dormant soul, with protective spells around it sure, but the Riddle part itself is basically asleep — or at least that's my theory on it."
"Okay, good point — goes back to our discussion this morning of sniping Riddle from two miles," said Daisy. "He can put up spells to defend himself if he knows it's coming, but if you head, eyes him there's nothing he can do about it. Although, talking about the protective spells around it, makes you wonder if it could survive a nuclear bomb. And if it could, why didn't the Japanese wizards put those same spells around Japan to defend their muggle compatriots?"
"They're as bad as British wizards and were blissfully unaware that the US was talking about dropping nukes? Everyone in Japan besides the politicians were blissfully unaware of the potential threat? The spells can only be cast on small objects, and stretching a spell out is like blowing a balloon up, it gets weaker as it stretches? We could take this to CERN and they could destroy it no problem because wizards are still stuck in the eighteenth century where nuclear physics wasn't a thing?" offered Fitz.
"Okay, good points — we don't have anywhere near enough information to answer that question," Daisy chuckled wryly. "It is an idea though, and a really good reason for wizards to get their heads out of their eighteenth century asses and into the real world."
"It is, and it will also never happen, if this world was even real to begin with," said Simmons. "Now are we going to destroy a horcrux without the nuclear bomb that Hermione unfortunately forgot to put in her little beaded bag, or are we going yak until the Riddle piece dies of old age?"
"Ooh, Jemma being sassy — I like it," smirked Daisy.
As Simmons rolled her eyes at her wife and set the diadem face-down on the table, Fitz walked over and picked the sword up from where he'd set it against the wall when they'd first walked in.
Looking over at his wives, he said, "Same protocol as when Dumbledore destroyed the locket — you two against the wall with wands drawn, and hopefully there'll be no need to use them, but better safe than sorry."
Once everyone was in position, Fitz raised the sword and brought it crashing down on the back of the diadem. Like with the locket, there was a long, drawn-out scream from the diadem when the blade of the sword made contact, and then nothing. The girls walked back over and they looked to see what carnage had been wrought. But just like with the outside of the locket and the ring, there was very little. The central stone the sword had hit was noticeably cracked in half, but still solidly affixed in the diadem, and there was a thin line on the metal down the inside of the tiara from where the edge of the sword had made contact, but other than that the diadem looked in fine shape. With no glass for the sword to break like in the locket, and no paper and leather to be pierced by a basilisk fang like the diary, it had acted almost exactly like Gaunt's ring, only damaging the stone slightly, and leaving the rest of the piece of jewelry intact.
"Three down, one more as soon as Kreacher gets back, and then only two left before we can end Riddle for good," said Daisy. "But far more importantly, Simmons still has her crown for black-tie galas."
In the country to the south, several Order members were gathering at The Burrow for supper.
It was just a little after seven and Aurthur still wasn't back from the Ministry yet, and Mrs Weasley was noticeably starting to get anxious. But before she could get really worked up, Mr Weasley's patronus appeared, telling them that the Minister was coming with him. A few seconds later Mr Weasley and Scrimgeour appeared out of nowhere at the gate.
Limping up to the table, Scrimgeour said, "Sorry to intrude, but I require a private word with Mr Potter and Misses Ronna Weasley and Hermione Granger."
"They're not here," Mad-Eye answered shortly.
"What do you mean they're not here?!" Scrimgeour exclaimed angrily. "Where is Potter?!"
"We don't know," replied Mad-Eye. "And to keep from accidentally leading You-Know-Who's Death Eaters to them, we're not looking, either. And as a former auror, and damn near the best if you remember, I would suggest you do the same."
"You told me he made it here safely!" yelled the Minister.
"Actually we only told you that he was safe, not here," Mad-Eye replied gruffly. "And safe he is — just not here."
"And you wouldn't tell me where he was even if you did know, would you?!" Scrimgeour said angrily.
"That is completely irrelevant, Minister," growled Mad-Eye, done with this conversation. "Because we don't know. The three of them are on their own, and will be until they decide otherwise. Now, if you would like to leave whatever Dumbledore left them in his will here with us — for I assume that is why you're here — we'd be more than happy to pass it on to them should they every come around for tea."
"Belongings have to be given to their recipients, you know that, Moody," snarled Scrimgeour.
"And they also have to be distributed immediately, and yet you withheld them for the maximum of thirty-one days that you permitted yourself under bullshit pretenses with the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation, which in all my years in the auror department was almost never used justifiably, since the questionably dark wizards it was intended for either distributed all of their belongings before they died, had someone do it for them immediately after their death and everything was gone long before the Ministry got there, or had so much money and power inside the Ministry that the law wasn't applied to them, like every time a Malfoy or Black has died since that rule was passed," growled Mad-Eye. "So don't go trying to quote laws around me — I was there when most of them were written, and could have told you then why they were never going to work as proposed, and how they would only ever be government overreach into law-abiding citizens' personal freedoms and liberty. So either give us whatever Dumbledore left them, or leave. Unless you have some other business for being here, which given the fact you don't like or trust any of us, I doubt is the case."
"I see you're still supporting Dumbledore even though he's dead and gone," said Scrimgeour with a hard expression.
"The only time Dumbledore has been mentioned this entire conversation is the fact that it's his will that you're here about," Mad-Eye replied with a growl. "Everything else has been about the Ministry's overreach, which literally could not have less to do with Dumbledore if it tried, and everything to do with your desire for more power. Now get out of here before we decide you're trespassing, and we do You-Know-Who's work for him."
With one last glare at Mad-Eye, Scrimgeour turned and stalked off, disapparating just beyond the gate.
Once he was gone, Mrs Weasley burst out angrily at Mad-Eye, "What was that all about?!"
"It was the Minister refusing to accept the fact that he's not above the law just because there's a national emergency going on," growled Mad-Eye. "There was no situation where he was going to give us the items from Dumbledore's will, which is all irrelevant anyway since in my auror opinion those three won't step foot on these grounds again until after Riddle is dead. So it didn't matter what I did or didn't say to the man, the end result was always going to be the same."
It was a tense sort of evening after that, Mrs Weasley clearly disagreeing with the auror who personally knew Scrimgeour from his service days, said auror not giving two shits about her uninformed opinion, and everyone else present happy when it was finally time for bed, as they could all start fresh in the morning on a wedding day that would sufficiently distract the matriarch from her disapproval of Mad-Eye.