Consanguina

by Jess S1

Fifteen years ago, more than one tragic mistake was made. Will its undoing help or hinder the Wizarding World and it's young hero as they enter another Dark Age?

13. Chapter 12: Healing & Preparation

Disclaimer: I own the plot, I apologize if it's been done before. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

AN: Hi! Real AN at the end! Enjoy!

Consanguina by Jess S

Chapter 12: Healing & Preparation

Nicholas Dolohov was really nothing like any other member of his family. He was from a long line of pureblood witches and wizards, who had always been sorted into Slytherin house, and occasionally into Ravenclaw, as he himself was. If you looked at him, you wouldn't think there was really anything spectacular about him. He was of average height with a slightly plump figure, pale brown hair and hazel eyes.

Really, the only thing interesting about him in appearance was his attire. His robes were the uniform of his station; with a formfitting waist, chest, and shoulders, they loosened only slightly on the sleeves, before sweeping down in a long, flowing back. These were the robes of his craft; that of a healer, and you could tell by their coloring that he was of very high rank. The mostly pale gray robes were lined with white, signifying his rank as a second lieutenant.

You had to be considerably skilled to reach that high a rank, and that was the one great exception to Dolohov's character. He was very gifted in the healing arts. Arts that he was now practicing in the Potter Manor, under it's lady's watchful eyes as he tended to none other than the Boy-Who-Lived himself.

He'd been there for many hours. The boy hadn't been in the best of shape when he'd arrived, and while the healer had certainly wondered what the teenager was doing here, he knew better than to ask questions. Beside that, the boy was clearly in need of his attention, so he hadn't had any time to ask, anyhow.

It was shortly after dawn that the healer was finally able to relax, the boy's condition stable.

"Nicholas?"

With a weary sigh, the healer turned toward the younger woman: his commanding officer, and dear friend. "He is stable, for now," he told her in a tired, but nonetheless pleased tone. "I've managed to bring his temperature down, but it was up around forty degrees [C - 104°F], which isn't necessarily bad," he assured her, "as long as it doesn't start to go up again. I've managed to bring it down to thirty-seven point eight [C - 100°F], so he should be fine, for now."

"Thank you, Nicholas," Vivian smiled, "it means a great deal to me."

"I can tell," Dolohov replied, while carefully re-packing his black-leather briefcase. When he was done, it closed with a snap, and he left five different bottles on the bedside table. "He'll need to take a dose of each of these potions until they run out." He picked up a dark blue bottle that was about the size of his fist, "This is Stataria: a stabilizer. He'll need this every three hours for the next week. And, for the week after that, every six hours." Setting that one aside he picked up the next one, a clear bottle that easily fit in the palm of his hand. It contained a pale, silvery-blue liquid, which the healer identified as; "Deflagro: a coolant. He'll only need this if his temperature augments again, as long as it stays below thirty-seven point eight [°C - 100°F]." The next bottle was also clear, and the liquid inside was only slightly opaque. The potion looked like a pale, wispy cloud trapped in a pool of water. "Malacae: for the migraines..."

Vivian nodded, "That's only for use during an attack, correct?"

"Yes," Dolohov nodded, "You can give it to him before, if he manages to sense it coming on, but other than that, a regular pain reliever would be better for any time after an attack." He then moved on to the next potion. This bottle was much larger than the other two, and the green glass was cut more along the lines of rectangle, rather than a cylinder. The liquid inside made the glass seem darker than it actually was. "This is Paean. He needs to take a dose of this, twice a day until he runs out of it." Finally, he reached the last potion, "And this is Relaxare: for stress. He should take this every morning for the next week, and whenever he feels particularly stressed."

"Thank you," the General nodded in understanding. "I'll never be able to repay you for this."

The healer raised an eyebrow, "Nonsense! You've saved my life more than once! And I'm still under your protection, am I not? I have to earn that somehow!"

"No," Vivian disagreed, "you don't. You've more than earned it all ready, with all the lives you save and the many pains you ease every day."

Dolohov shook his head, "Perhaps..." he sighed. "But it can never be enough..." He looked up as his commander laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"You may be a Dolohov by birth, but you are, and always will be your own person, Nicholas. You are not guilty of any of your families sins, and have nothing - nothing," she emphasized the word while watching his face carefully, "to repent for."

The Dolohov's, like many, not all, but many pureblood families of their class, were completely loyal to Lord Voldemort and his cause. Nicholas, however, was not. He hadn't been forced to join the Death Eaters when he was younger, because he'd only graduate a year before the Lord met his downfall in the one who lay before the healer now. He had chosen to pursue a career as a healer, which his family had supported, as healers were tremendously needed during those dark times, therefore the Ministry didn't focus much on their family.

A year before, when the Dark Lord had risen again, he had been faced with the dilemma once again, and he had instead chosen to turn to his friends within the Ministry: the other healer's in Vivian's Sector. They had in turn sent them to Vivian herself.

"We received another emergency house call last night," Nicholas told the General, deciding the change the topic.

"Oh?" She replied, well aware of the diversion, and choosing to go along with it.

The healer nodded, "Yes, I tended to Mr. Malfoy's son myself, before coming here."

"What was wrong with him?"

"Nothing," Nicholas shook his head. "At least, nothing I could find. Apparently he just didn't react well to the aftershock of the wave's release."

"Hmm, no," Vivian nodded, "he wouldn't... Will he recover, then?"

Nicholas nodded, "I advised a few days bed rest and left some Malacae and Relaxare with him. He'll heal much more quickly than... your brother, I presume?"

"Yes," the Auror confirmed.

"Ah, so you are the 'Boy-Who-Lived's Mysterious Elder Sibling'." Seeing the look she sent his way, he continued. "I happen to bump into Ms. Skeeter when I was leaving headquarters - I think she'd been trying to get something out of the desk clerks.... anyway, I believe that was the title of her next article."

~ * ~

It was just past eight o'clock in the morning that saw the exhausted members of the Order of the Phoenix entering the Great Hall for breakfast. They'd had little success the night before, having come up with no name that rung any bells, and no idea as to what to do next.

It didn't really surprise them, when they found all of the 'children' already seated around the table. What did surprise them, however, was that the 'children' did not immediately beginning attacking them with questions like they usually did after Order meetings. Instead, they seemed to be far too interested in whatever they were talking about to even take notice of the older wizards' arrival.

As they neared the table, they saw just what the object of their attention was. A newspaper, or, to be more precise; The Daily Prophet.

"What's in there, now?" Mrs. Weasley asked, causing all of the 'children' to jump, startled.

Instead of answering her inquiry, they immediately began asking questions of their own.

"Is it true?" Ron demanded even as Fred and George cried out, "Why can't we be in the Order?! We're adults!" Hermione's "Do you know who she is?" was less than half a second behind them and quickly followed by Ginny's "When can we meet her?!"

This sudden outburst, needless to say, startled and confused the tired 'adults', and it took them a few seconds to register what they'd been asked as they took seats around the table and began filling their plates.

"Is what true, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked with a sigh.

"The article!" her youngest son replied, "Does Harry really have an older sister?"

Mrs. Weasley waited for a nod of approval from the Headmaster before replying, "Yes," she sighed. "I assume both your question, Hermione, and Ginny's question refer to the same subject?"

Both younger witches nodded.

"Alright," she sighed again, before turning her attention to the twins. "And as to yours, you've already been told! You can't join the Order until you graduate!"

Had it not been for the look on their mother's face, the twins probably would have objected rather forcefully, but seeing her current temperament, they instead turned their attention to their breakfast.

"Now," Professor McGonagall called the student's attention to herself, "what article are you referring to, exactly?"

"It's in today's Daily Prophet," Hermione replied. "Rita Skeeter wrote it, it takes up the entire first page and the two following pages!" she said handing the paper to Remus, who then passed it to McGonagall, who offered it to the Headmaster.

Potter - Not One, But Two!

~ * ~

"Good morning, General," the Minister's assistant, Dolores Umbridge greeted the Auror in her high-pitched voice, obviously assuming that her pointed teeth formed a pleasant, welcoming smile. "The Minister is waiting for you in his office."

"Thank you, Undersecretary." Vivian replied smoothly, not allowing any of her dislike for the woman to show as she walked past her desk and pushed open the double doors that led to the Minister of Magic's office.

Inside, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, sat behind his white marble desk, in his very well cushioned black leather chair, signing various documents. The portly man apparently didn't hear the door click shut, for he didn't turn his attention away from the paperwork for even a moment's notice.

If anything could tell you why Fudge wanted to remain Minister of Magic, it was his office. The plush white rug that covered the floor, the intricate wallpaper, large and overly comfortable furniture (from Vivian's point of view), and the flashy knickknack's that adorned almost every part of the room assured that. It was one of the reason's Vivian had never liked coming to the Minister's office. Such open displays of wealth, (certainly funded by taxpayers, not by the man himself,) didn't seem befitting anyone of public stature.

What's more, Vivian herself had gone to extreme efforts to ensure that everyone in her Sector was as comfortable and cared for as was possible. All of the finery in her office was only there because it would seem inappropriate for the head of the Sector to have anything less when the whole sector was outfitted along those lines. And, while many offices in the Sector contained the same ludicrous little crystal globes that ordained the Minister's office, they were there solely as a semi-attractive form of communication, and that was what they were used for, she didn't think the Minister used his for anything. And even if he did, he really didn't need thirty-six of them! (She'd counted them the last time she'd been here... She'd need something to distract her from overly pompous idiot's attempts at administration!)

"Good morning, Minister," Vivian greeted coolly, causing the older wizard to jump in surprise, and look up his eyes a little wider usual. "You called?"

"O-oh, General Potier, how nice to see you!" Fudge replied jovially, once he'd managed to recollect himself, "Come, come, have a seat!" he offered, with a wave to one of the chairs in front of his seat.

The General shook her head, "I would rather stand, thank you."

"Oh... of course, of course..." the wizard nodded, clearly still trying to get a grasp on the situation. "Uhh... I was... I trust you've seen Ms. Skeeter's article in the Prophet?"

"I have."

"Yes, well... I was hoping you would look into it." Before she could respond, he blustered on, "You don't have to do it yourself, of course. But the Ministry has a right to know whom the Boy-Who-Lived's elder sibling is authentic, and who exactly she is." He finished pompously, before continuing with the same amount of hesitation he'd begun with. "A-And you've been so interested in the boy as of late, I thought..."

"I will look into it." Vivian assured him, with a small, but nonetheless firm nod. After a small pause, she continued. "If you don't mind my asking, Minister. What are your plans for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts?"

"P-Plans?" the older man asked nervously. "What makes you think I have any plans for a teaching position at Hogwarts? Th-That's the Headmaster's responsibility, not mine."

"Indeed, but the Educational Decree - twenty two, isn't it? - that you're currently trying to pass would suggest otherwise."

"Ah, well... yes...It seems that - that the Headmaster has been having a great deal of difficulty with finding a suitable teacher for the position. So I thought I might help him out..."

"And whom do you intend to appoint?"

"Well I... I'm not quite sure... I-I have some candidates, but..."

"And who are they?"

"Oh... I, well, I thought Ms. Umbridge would do well, or perhaps Mr. Munch, as he's currently unemployed-"

"I fired Mr. Munch for quite realistic reasons, Minister. He couldn't handle himself in a crisis. Do you really think someone like that would be any good at teaching teenagers Defense?"

"I... well, I..."

"You must, of course, consider many things on such a decision, and I understand where it may become confusing." Vivian cut in smoothly. "Anyhow, will that be all?"

"Yes... yes, of course." Fudge nodded, "Have a good day then, General."

"And you as well, Minister," the Auror General replied, before turning on her heel and exiting the gaudy office. She pretended not to notice the handkerchief the wizard dragged across his shimmering forehead.

"I do apologize, Mr. Malfoy," she heard Umbridge say as she opened the door, "but the Minister is currently rather detained. But I'm sure he'll be with you shortly!"

"Indeed," was Lucius Malfoy's cool reply.

The General had to suppress a smile/smirk at that: knowing all too well that the Lord of the Malfoy Manor didn't like to be kept waiting. She knew, just as well, that even if she hadn't intentionally allowed the door to click shut, the older wizard would have looked up.

As always, he wasn't hard to look at. In a flawlessly tailored ensemble of mostly black silk, with some touches of green and silver lining, and dark-dragon-hide boots, he was the picture of elegance, just as he intended to be. However, she did note the barely noticeable dark circles under his eyes and the slightly ruffled fall of his usually sleek pale blonde hair; which were both quite unusual for him.

"Ah... Mademoiselle Potier, bonjour!" {Miss Potier, good morning!} He greeted her with a small smile and an accompanying nod.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Malfoy," Vivian replied, returning both the smile and the nod. "Ici sur des affaires?" {Here on business?} She inquired glancing quickly at the fist-size pouch of what she was certain could only be galleons, a barely noticeable glint of amusement in her eyes.

"Oui," the blonde nodded, "Vous-même?" {Yourself?}

"Oui..." She returned the nod again, "Ayez un beau jour alors." {Have a nice day, then.}

"Et vous aussi bien, Mademoiselle," {And you as well,} The Malfoy Lord replied, before nodding and sweeping into the Minister's office.

Vivian nodded slightly to the Minister's assistant before departing.

~ * ~

"The booklists just arrived," Hermione told Ron as she and Ginny entered his bedroom a little while later. They'd left only a short time before to see what was happening downstairs, as the three of them had been hiding out up here since they returned after breakfast this morning, hoping to escape Mrs. Weasley's endless cleaning spree.

"About time," Ron muttered, "I'd thought they'd forgotten, they usually come earlier than this..." He then opened his letter as his best friend and his sister did the same from where they were seated on the other bed. "Only two new ones for us," he muttered, looking up at the other two. "What'd about you?"

"Same here," Ginny replied, "I've got The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, by Miranda Goshawk and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard."

"Hey, me too! Only we've got Grade 5 for The Standard Book of Spells!" Ron told her, clearly surprised. After a moment, he looked up. "What'd about you, 'Mione?"

"Oh, I've got the same as you, and I need; Rhombi Mathematica by Natalie Nundinari, for Arithmancy and Litterara Veterrimus by Lawrence K. Gnaritas, for Ancient Runes."

"Wow..." Ron muttered, "Sucks to be you..."

Hermione picked up the pillow that was on the bed she was sitting on and tossed it at him half-heartedly. After that, she turned to her other letter. Turning it upside down, she seemed to be the only one who was surprised when a gold and scarlet badge fell out and landed in her lap.

"It really sucks to be you..." Ginny agreed with her brother's previous statement.

~ * ~

Harry moaned softly, trying to wake. For some reason he felt like his eyes were sealed shut. Sealed in a way that made them incapable of ever opening again... That thought caused a flash of momentary panic, but his common sense quickly overrode it. Of course he could open his eyes! Nothing had happened to arrange otherwise...

With that thought in mind his struggles began anew. He stopped however, tensing when he felt someone gently brush a soft wet cloth across his eyelids before continuing up to his forehead.

Deciding that someone who meant him harm couldn't possibly be this gentle, he chanced moving, and found that he could now open his eyes. It wasn't easy, as every part of his body seemed innately exhausted, but he managed.

At first, he wondered when whoever was beside him was going to put his glasses on, because his vision was a little blurry. But then he remembered that he didn't need glasses anymore! Vivian had fixed his eyesight... so why was everything so out of focus?

"Good morning, Harry."

"Aunt Petunia?" he asked, his voice incredibly weak. "Wh-What happened? Why do my eyes hurt? And why am I go tired? An-"

"Shhhh, shhhh," his aunt soothed, brushing the washcloth across his forehead again. "Everything's going to be fine. You're recovering from a high fever; it'll take awhile to recover completely. Calm down, breath..."

Struggling to follow her instructions, Harry forced himself to slow his breathing, and found some of the waves of panic he'd been feeling dissipate.

"Good job, Harry." Aunt Petunia murmured softly. "Now open wide, you need to take some of the medications the healer left for you."

"Healer?" Harry inquired, his voice still incredibly weak. Nonetheless he left his mouth slowly opened and struggled to make his tired ears hear what she was doing... it sounded like she was pulling corks out of bottles... 'Probably potions, then...' he thought.

A moment later, he felt a teaspoon being rested on his lower lip and tipped slightly, to pour a thick, syrupy substance that tasted like a cross between orange and lemon juice, into his dry, tired and aching mouth.

"Come on, Harry. You can do it..." he heard his aunt murmur encouragingly as he felt her gently stroking a hand down his neck, causing him to swallow reflexively. "Good job, Harry... Here's the next one..."

Once again a spoon was balanced lightly on his bottom lip, angled to allow the contents to pour into his mouth. This potion was relatively tasteless, and its consistency was closer to that of water, rather than syrup.

And again, Aunt Petunia helped him swallow, before moving onto the next potion. "Good...next..."

~ * ~

"Have you got everything? Hermione - Ron - Ginny - Fred - George?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she bustled them over to Flourish and Blotts' exit. When she received all weary nods in response she smiled, "That'd good. Come on now, dears."

They were just now finishing their back to school shopping. It had taken several hours, so they were glad it was over with. Normally this trip was something they looked forward, but all it served as today was a reminder of Harry's disappearance.

It was as they were making their way to The Leaky Cauldron that Ginny, who hadn't really spoken once on the whole trip, did so. "Ria!" she called, sending the attention of every member of their group to the young General who was only a short distance away from them.

Turning in response to the redhead's shout, the strawberry-blonde offered a warm smile as she made her way over to them. She made it look so easy, whereas they had to push their way through the packed street, it seemed that the crowd almost unconsciously parted for her. "Good afternoon, everyone. How are you?" she asked pleasantly, her bright blue eyes not missing the weary expressions behind their smiles, nor their bag-laden arms. "Back to school shopping, are you?"

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley replied, having to raise her voice to be heard over the crowd. "How are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you," the Auror replied, still smiling gently. She glanced at her watch. "Have you had lunch yet?"

"Well - umm - no," Mrs. Weasley replied, shaking her head, "but we're just heading home now-"

"Would you care to join me for lunch?" The Auror offered. "It's mayhem at the Cauldron; at least an hours wait on the Floo's, so your better off just sitting down to lunch for a time, and then heading home."

"Well... I don't..."

"I'd enjoy the company," Ria continued, still smiling, "My treat."

"Please, Mum?" Ginny pleaded, "I'm starving! And we haven't talked to Ria in weeks!"

"Well, actually days, but it does seem like that, doesn't it?" Ria smiled.

As the other children added their encouragement to the arrangement, Mrs. Weasley finally relented. "Well, alright then. Where to?"

~ * ~

The sight that greeted her as she entered her brother's chambers, was just what she needed to see. For indeed, Vivian had been worried about her brother, desperately so... And seeing him awake, even struggling as he was, served to sooth her fears... for the most part. She could tell her aunt had been no less worried then she, it wasn't hard; for the dark circles under the older woman's eyes were just visible to the Auror's sharp eyes, even in the dim lighting.

"Well," she murmured quietly, drawing the pair's attention to her. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"Vivian!" Harry smiled brightly. "You're back!" She thought his voice sounded a bit weak, but wasn't sure, as his happiness seemed to outshine everything else.

The Auror smiled as she made her way over to the bed, conjuring up a chair beside it as she did so. "Yes, I am," she agreed, "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Terrible!" he replied with a sigh.

Now, she could definitely hear the weariness in the younger wizard's voice. "Have you had your medications, yet?" she asked, glancing at her aunt.

Aunt Petunia nodded, but didn't say anything as Harry replied.

"Yes, they taste awful!"

Vivian smiled at that, he sounded like a small child. And, annoying as the whining may be to some, she found it touching. "I'm sure most of it did, but, personally, I've always thought Malacae tasted rather pleasant, myself."

Harry frowned slightly, "Which one was that?"

"You can barely taste it, it's almost like water. But there is a hint of peppermint in it, and the barest touch of salt."

"Peppermint?" the teenager thought about it for a moment, before nodding. "Oh, I remember that one! It made me think of the ocean! And it was easier to breath after that!"

"Yes," Vivian nodded, "That's the one." She then nodded to the tray that was balanced over the wizard's lap. "Would this be brunch, or lunch?"

"Oh... actually, it was supposed to be breakfast," Harry's cheeks reddened a little, made all the more obvious then the unnatural paleness of his skin; which had been caused by the fever. "I've been having a bit of trouble with it..."

The Auror eyed the tray thoughtfully, before nodding. Egg's benedict, rice pudding, fruit salad, toast, milk and orange juice were a bit much for someone in his condition. "Well, just try to finish the fruit and the toast, and the milk would be a good idea to. Then you should get some rest."

"You sound like Madam Pomphrey," the Gryffindor grumbled.

Vivian laughed, "Thank you," she smiled. "That's quite a compliment, considering her repertoire."

"What'd you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

"Poppy Pomphrey is one of the best medi-witch's in Europe."

"She is?"

"Umm-hmm, come on, finish your... breakfast." Vivian encouraged. After a few moments' silence, in which Harry had taken a deep gulp of his milk, she continued. "Just out of curiosity, Harry, why didn't you tell me you'd made Prefect?"

Harry had to noticeably restrain himself from spitting his milk out. After forcing himself to swallow, he looked at her. "What?"

"Prefect." Vivian repeated. "You and Hermione are the new Gryffindor Prefect's."

"We are?" Harry blinked. "I mean... Hermione, no surprise there... but...me?"

"You didn't know, then?" Vivian frowned, and pulled open the drawer of his bedside table, taking out the envelope that held his Hogwarts letter. When she turned it upside down, a glittering badge with a golden lion atop inside a golden frame with a scarlet background fell into her open hand.

~ * ~

"Aris Cenatonis?" Mrs. Weasley read the name off the sign in the entranceway they'd just past through off of Diagon Alley's busy streets. "I've never heard of it. Is it new?"

"Relatively," Ria replied as she led them across the entrance hall to a grand staircase. The floor of the hall, as well as the columns and the stairs were all white marble. A dark black carpet swept down the majestic staircase, covering most of it like a regal cape before flowing across the entrance hall to the entryway. The hall itself was relatively bare, with the exception of the staircase and a desk off to the right of it, where a young man in dark black robes was stationed.

The room was just barely lit by many tiny lights in the dark black ceiling up above, which made the atmosphere what one would find on an exceptionally clear night. There was also a torch on each side of the paintings that covered the walls, depicting ancient battle scenes. None of the dark paintings were magical, which only seemed to add to their charm. The only other light came from a candle at the young man's desk. He'd looked up when they'd first entered, before turning his attention back to whatever book he was reading.

Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and her children followed the Auror up the regal staircase until they came to the first level, which allowed them to go up two different staircases. Ria led them up the one on the right.

"What's up there?" Fred asked her, pointing to the other staircase as they climbed the right staircase.

"The pub," she replied evenly, as they reached the top of the stairs, where pretty witch in her mid-twenties awaited them.

"Table for seven, General?" The hostess inquired when the party reached her.

Ria nodded, and then they entered the restaurant itself.

The dining area was as dark as its' entrance, the soft black carpet that covered the floor and the dark wood of the chairs and tables making it seem darker. The cushions of the chairs, they could see were covered with red leather, and the small lanterns that stood in the center of every table were intricately cut glass encasing the magical flame inside, resting atop a golden base and frame.

Overall, the restaurant seemed much darker then most of the restaurant's the wizard's had set foot in before, but not dark like the Leaky Cauldron, which was only dark because it was old, with few windows and it wasn't well lit. No, Aris Cenatonis seemed dark because in a way that was intended the place. It was mysterious, and exciting: dangerous...

As one might expect, the teenagers loved it.

"This place is great!" Fred and George hissed at the same time, staring around them in awe as they seated themselves around one of the corner tables.

Ria chuckled, offering a small smile as she accepted a menu from the hostess, and replying once the witch was on her way back to the entrance. "It is rather nice, isn't it?"

"When was it built?" Mrs. Weasley inquired, clearly just as interested as her children.

"Three years ago," the Auror replied.

"Three years?" George demanded.

"How did a place like this remain a secret for three years?" Fred agreed.

Ria laughed, shaking her head. "It's not a secret, not really. But it is a bit exclusive."

"Oh," Mrs. Weasley frowned, "a club of some sort?"

"Something like that," Ria nodded, opening her menu, continuing as she scanned it. "It's for our Sector in the Ministry. Vivian bought the lot four years ago, had this place built, and found the people to run it."

"Another perk of being an Auror?" Hermione summarized as she too opened her menu.

The Auror nodded, "Yes... Well, at least an Auror in Vivian's Sector."

"Good afternoon," Everyone looked up, and the witch who stood there in a long red dress with a flowing black cloak over it smiled. "I'm Clara, and I'll be your server today. Would you like anything to drink?"

"A glass of Dulcis, on the rocks, please," Ria replied.

"The same, please," Mrs. Weasley requested.

"A Butterbeer, please?" Ginny requested.

When the waitress nodded a confirmation, Hermione smiled, "I'll have the same, please."

"Me too," Ron agreed.

"Same," both Fred and George decided.

"Alright," Clara nodded, "That will be two Dulcis, on the rocks, and five Butterbeer?"

Ria nodded.

"Have you decided what you want to order?" the waitress asked, then smiled when she received many frantic shaking heads in response. "I'll be back in a moment, then."

~ * ~

There were many things the Dark Lord could do to intimidate someone. And many more if magic was included. But even without that extraordinary asset, there were few that could meet his gaze unflinchingly...

His followers were no exception. The only difference was the fact that they'd had time to become used to that fear. For they dealt with it almost every day.

If asked, however, you might be surprised at what frightened the vast majority of the Death Eaters the most. Which was, of course, what he was doing now.

Thinking.

The room was tense with a heavy quietus hanging in the air. Their lord had summoned them, them being the members of the Inner Circle, here well over an hour ago. Therefore, they'd been there for nearly an hour; for they all knew the unhappy consequences of keeping the Dark Lord waiting. And he didn't ignore tardiness any more then he ignore disobedience, for that's what it was. When the mark burned, they were to come to their Lord's side immediately, no matter what. Of course, in these times excuses were allowed for short waiting periods, as they didn't want Aurors following them here. But, the Dark Lord was only so patient, so it was never a good idea to push your luck...

Therefore, they'd all been standing there for nearly an hour. Waiting...

Finally, Lord Voldemort chose to speak. "Severus," he called in a low hiss that echoed through the dark throne room. For that was what this shadowed, ominous cavern located somewhere beneath the Riddle Manor truly was.

A tall figure immediately detached itself from the group, stepping forward and offering a deep bow. "My lord?"

"I am sure you are aware of our interesting new development?" The Dark Lord murmured, while stroking his dear pet, Nagini's dark head.

"I am, my lord."

"And what, pray tell, does our dear Headmaster know?"

"Very little, my lord." Snape replied after a moment's hesitation. "He believes that because of how long the spell was in place, some of its effects still linger, and may only be treated as ordinary amnesia..."

"So he expects them to return with time, does he?"

The Potions Master nodded, "So he has said many times, my lord."

"And has he met with... young Miss Potter, yet?"

Snape's frown was hidden by his mask, "No, my lord. He does not know where to find her, or how to contact her..."

This actually seemed to take the Dark Lord by surprise. "He doesn't...?"

"No," Snape shook his head, "my lord. He does not."

"...Interesting." After a moment, Voldemort chuckled evilly. "Yes, very interesting... Very well, Severus. You may go. Keep me informed."

"Of course," the Head of Slytherin House bowed deeply, "my lord."

"All of the other members of the Second Circle are dismissed as well." Voldemort ordered, causing nearly four fifths of the Death Eater's present to break away, bowing, and make their way toward the door.

Snape took his time in leaving, but he couldn't stay behind too long. For that could have aroused the Dark Lord's suspicion and that was something neither Snape himself, nor the forces of the Light could afford.

~ * ~

"Your meal will be here shortly," Clara assured them after she finished taking down their orders.

"Thank you," Ria nodded. After the waitress had left, the Auror smiled at her companions. "So, have you found everything you need?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "Yes, there actually wasn't that much they needed for this year."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Hermione nodded, "They only need two new books."

"And you needed...?" the Auror inquired.

"Four," the younger witch replied. "I'm taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, too."

"So you needed to buy Rhombi Mathematica by Natalie Nundinari, for Arithmancy and Litterara Veterrimus by Lawrence K. Gnaritas, for Ancient Runes?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded.

"Hmm," Ria returned the nod, "Good books, if I recall correctly. Gnaritas is a little dry, but he's worth the read, and Nundinari always finds some way to make her novel's interesting." After offering a gentle smile to the younger witch, she continued. "And what other books do you need?"

"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk and Defensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard," Ron replied.

This caused a frown to grace the Auror's features. "Slinkhard? Really? Dear me," she shook her head. "Then Umbridge must have been accepted as DADA..."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"Dolores Umbridge," Ria replied, "The Minister's Undersecretary... Only she could pick something that dull, not to mention inaccurate..."

"Why would the Minister's Undersecretary be the new DADA?" Fred - or maybe it was George, but she was pretty sure it was Fred - asked.

The General sighed, "The Minister managed to pass an Educational Degree that gave him the right to appoint a someone as Professor of any position in Hogwarts, should the Headmaster himself not be able to fill it."

"Dumbledore was having a hard time of that," Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"Yes, well," Ria sighed (again), "It's not overly hard to understand why, with what's happened to the last four... but it isn't overly reassuring."

Mrs. Weasley frowned, "Why do you say that?"

"Your orders," a voice came from beside the table, drawing their attention to their waitress, Clara.

"Thank you," Ria replied with a nod as the waitress set her meal before her.

After she had done the same for the others, Clara bowed slightly to the General, "Will that be all, General?"

"Just another round of drinks, please," Ria replied, "and put the check on my tab."

"Of course, ma'am."

~ * ~

Petunia Evans sighed as she rose from her position beside her nephew's bed. Harry had fallen asleep a few minutes before, not long after his sister had departed. And Petunia knew that now was as good as time as any to write the letter Vivian had asked her to. Moving quietly, so as not to disturb Harry's rest, she moved over to the desk that was located a short distance from the bed, and took out a piece of parchment.

After struggling for a few minutes to ensure that the parchment remained flat, she carefully opened one of the side drawers and removed one of the quills inside. She then uncorked the bottle of dark black ink, and dipped the quill in.

Then she began writing...

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

~ * ~

"Good afternoon, everyone," Vivian smiled as she stepped out of the fireplace and into the Headmaster's office. "I trust you all are well?"

A few muttered responses and several nods answered her before everyone took their seats.

"First of all," Dumbledore began with a sigh, "I would like to apologize to you, Vivian-"

"That won't be necessary," Vivian cut him off. "It's only natural that you suspected me of folly at some point, and I was honestly surprised you hadn't done so sooner." Of course, truth be told, she really didn't want to hear him apologize for suspecting her of being Harry's kidnapper, when in all actually, she really was, essentially.

This caused Ron to frown, "Natural? Why would it be natural?"

The Auror shrugged, "I'm the outsider here. And my job often requires that I withhold more then I give, so it's only natural that you begin to suspect me of something..."

"Hmm, I suppose," the Headmaster sighed, "Nonetheless-"

He was cut off by a tapping noise from the window. When everyone turned to look, they saw that an owl was perched on the ledge, a letter in hand.

Ron was the first one to reach the window, so he was the one who relieved the avian creature of its burden. Glancing at the back, he handed it to the Headmaster. "It's for you, Professor."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore replied, before opening the envelope and unfolding the letter it held. He quickly scanned the letter, and a frown quickly replaced the surprised look in his eyes. After a moment, he held the letter out to Vivian, "Would you care to read it, my dear?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow (all for show), but took it nonetheless. Then she began to read:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I understand you have been quite concerned for my nephew's whereabouts, and while I am quite glad that so many people care for him, I must ask that stop pursuing the matter of his location. Harry himself has been getting along quite well here... with the exception of his visions and the incident last night...

Harry will be attending Hogwarts this year, as I'm sure you already know from the responses he sent to the letters he received on his birthday. However, he will not say anything, to anyone, regarding where we have been this summer. Indeed, he will not be able to. I have our host's assurance of that. Our host happens to be an expert of what I believe you refer to as Ancient Magic, and has already found the necessary spell to ensure that he cannot be forced to talk. Nothing but the caster's release will break the spell. Truth serum, torture of any sort, be it physical or mental, will only cause him pain, and will do nothing to help you discover our whereabouts.

I understand that this will not please you, indeed how could it? But it is truly for the boy's own good... I had not been overly happy in the last few years of my marriage, and indeed, with the news of The Dark Lord's return, I did not feel overly safe at my former husband's residence. Therefore I was quite glad to take our host's offer on moving in with them.

For reasons I myself cannot divulge, this move had to be kept secret. I can tell you no more on the matter, other then Harry, our host and myself did not want to cause you, or any of Harry's friends, worry or pain.

Our host has informed us that three 'Aurors' have been working on this case. Under our host's instruction Harry will meet those three in Muggle London, on Platform 1 of King's Cross, on August 31st. He will be expected to return by the same route on holidays.

I hope you are well...

Sincerely,

Petunia Evans

"What does she mean, 'stop looking for him'?" Ron demanded, his ears reddening.

"P.S.," Vivian continued, forestalling any agreement with the redhead's statement.

Please do not be too hard on Harry. He, more then any of us, did not want to cause any grief on his part... Our host has also requested that I tell you this:

Do not try and break the spell that keeps Harry from betraying them. It will not allow him to divulge information, consciously or unconsciously, in any way, shape or form. He can not say it, he can not write it, and even spells to look into his mind will be met with a harsh barrier.

However, that is not why I must tell you this... Harry has agreed to the condition, if only because he would not be able to return to Hogwarts otherwise. Therefore, should you find a way to break through the spell... it has a natural defensive mechanism: What I believe you call 'Obliviation'. Should you somehow force Harry to begin to tell you anything, he will forget everything. And, as I understand, there is currently no way to reverse this condition.

~ * ~

Sleep is truly a wondrous thing: a definite key to good health, and certainly to healing. And it is our escape. It gives the body a chance to renew its energy, revitalize itself, and heal, while we remain peacefully oblivious to the world around us.

Sometimes, however, that peaceful oblivion does not come. And, indeed, Harry Potter had not seen it in a long time...

However, unlike many previous nights, his mind was not torturing him with horrible memories or painful visions, no... Instead he was remembering things he shouldn't be able to remember. Things, most people certainly would've forgotten, as they didn't really seem as important as you might consider them later on in life, when they happened.

If the Boy-Who-Lived himself were actually conscious, he might've remembered his sister telling him: "When one is discontent, the mind often resorts to holding on to happy memories…". As it was, he was only floating along deep inside his mind.

"Hurry up, boy!" Vernon Dursley growled, as he half dragged his five-year-old nephew down the sidewalk, while balancing his son on his hip.

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon," Harry muttered quietly, wishing his uncle would release the tight - not bruising, but still relatively painful - grip he held on his small shoulder. He really didn't know why he thought this trip might be any different from any other trip he'd been on with his relatives. Mrs. Figg, who usually watched him when the Dursley's went out, was having company, and therefore was unable to today. His Uncle had wanted to leave him at home, in the cupboard, but Aunt Petunia had pointed out that the neighbors might become suspicious if they saw them leave without the boy. After all, they usually dropped him off at Figg's house a few streets away...

"Ice cream! Ice cream!" Five-year-old Dudley Dursley shrieked, reaching for the ice cream parlor a short distance away. "Daddy, want ice cream!"

Well, of course, that inevitably meant that they ended up inside the parlor. Harry, following his uncle's sharp orders, was sitting in one of the corner tables, a good distance from his relatives, and watching as his cousin stuffed his face in a huge sundae; three scoops of chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, Oreo crumbs, hot fudge and whip cream. He, of course, had nothing.

"Why are you sitting here all alone?"

Harry blinked and looked across the table where a girl who looked vaguely familiar was seated, smiling at him. He didn't know why she seemed so familiar, it might've been because her long hair was the same shade his was, and didn't look like it really behave much either, and her large eyes matched his as well. But she didn't have glasses. Regardless of all this, the simple fact remained that Harry himself didn't know any girls. He might when he started school in the autumn, but he still probably wouldn't know her. She looked to be around the age of eleven, so she wouldn't be anywhere near the kinder gardeners.

"Hello...? Anyone home?"

"Huh - wha...?" Harry blinked, then blushed as he realized he'd been staring. "H-Hi, I'm Harry."

"I'm Vivian," the girl replied smoothly. "Why are you sitting here all alone?" she asked again, before nodding toward the Dursleys, "Shouldn't you be with your parents?"

"They're not my parents..." Harry replied, sighing slightly. "My mum and dad died in a car crash when I was just a baby." He hadn't noticed the frown that graced her features at that. "That's my aunt and uncle, and my cousin, Dudley."

"Why aren't you sitting with them?"

"Because...they don't want me to."

"They don't... Would you like some ice cream?" Vivian asked, evidently deciding to steer clear of the topic, as it appeared to distress him.

"I - uh, no, thank you... I wouldn't want to impose..." Harry finished, glancing over towards his relatives again.

"Oh, it isn't a problem." Vivian assured him, "I don't like to eat alone! What flavor would you like?"

"Umm... I don't know..." Harry replied hesitantly, "I've never tried one before..."

"Well, I'm getting a vanilla-chocolate-twist. Would you like one of those? They're very good."

"Oh - umm... Sure... Thank you."

Had he been conscious, Harry might've wondered why he hadn't remembered that incident until now. Then again, he probably would've realized it was the spell at work again... But, as it was, he was just going with the flow...

Ten-year-old Harry Potter sat by himself in the corner of the classroom. Watching as his classmates played and gossiped. This wasn't unusual. His cousin Dudley had made sure he had no friends...

Indeed, all of the other children were afraid of becoming targets of Dudley's little gang, who were now on their way over to him...

Therefore, he was more then a little relieved when the substitute teacher they'd been waiting for arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," she murmured, her voice bearing a light, barely noticeable, French accent.

If he'd been a little older, he undoubtedly would've though that she was quite pretty. With long raven black hair flowing down to her waist, and pale, refined features highlighting emerald green eyes that were framed in long dark lashes. But of course, Harry was ten years old, and he was still at the stage where he though girls might have 'cooties'...

He did notice to things though.

One: she seemed a lot nicer then any of the other teachers he'd had.

Two: she also seemed a lot younger then any of the other teachers he'd had...

"My name's Vivian Potier, and I'll be substituting for Mrs. Smith today." The lady continued. "Now, how are all of you this morning?"

"Good, Mrs. Potier." The class replied in monotone.

Potier laughed, "It's Miss, thank you." She smiled as she set her small black purse on the desk and picked up one of the papers on the desk. "Now, I'm going to start role-call, please raise your hand and say here when I call you... Amanda Ackland?"

Harry started to fade the classroom out, as had long been his custom. It was much more comfortable sleeping at his desk rather than in the cupboard. So he usually fell asleep for a few hours, if only because it was the only time he could sleep. Of course, it ensured that the teachers didn't like him, but...

"Here! Here!" he was brought back to the classroom when his cousin started bouncing up and down in his seat, his hand raised, causing a noticeable strain on his poor chair.

"Thank you, Mr. Dursley," Miss Potier nodded. "Elizabeth Dawn?"

He didn't rally want to ignore his teachers, but he couldn't help it! He was always so tired! And the few times he'd asked to be sent to the nurse got him sent home due to sheer exhaustion, and that didn't help! He still passed all of the tests and did all of the homework, but the teachers still didn't like him, understandably so... After all, he fell asleep in class, and was blamed for all of the problems his cousin caused.

"Alright there, Mr. Potter?" a kind voice inquired pleasantly.

He blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, to stare up at the substitute teacher, "Y-yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

"Not a problem," Miss Potier shook her head, "it's early..." Then she looked up and her eyes landed on a blonde girl with brown eyes, who was seated a short distance from him. "Zoë Wilson, I presume?"

"Yes, ma'am," the blonde replied. Harry knew she was the last person on the list, alphabetically right after him.

"Everyone's here, then!" Miss Potier smiled, walking down the aisle to the front of the classroom and taking a seat on the teacher's desk. "I'm afraid that Mrs. Smith's absence was a bit unexpected, so I don't have a class plan to follow. However," she smiled, "that's no problem, I'll just make one up. But, for this morning, I thought we might go for a walk in the park. How does that sound?"

"Yeah!" Almost everyone in the class agreed loudly, knowing she was referring to the park a block away from the school entrance. Dudley was one of the few people who didn't appear the least bit pleased with this prospect, and Harry knew that was because Dudley Dursley hated any and all forms of exercise, unless it involved punching someone, and he couldn't do that when he was with the teacher.

"Wonderful," Miss Potier smiled. "Yes, Miss Davies, what is it?"

"Umm, Miss Potier," the brunette began, stumbling over the foreign name for a moment, before continuing. "When is Mrs. Smith going to be back?"

"You may call me Miss P., if you like," the lady offered, "And, we're not quite sure when Mrs. Smith will be back, but I'm going to be teaching this class for the next week, so hopefully she'll be back by then. She's visiting family in Ireland."

"Oh... Thank you, Miss. P.," the Davies girl smiled.

Miss Potier nodded, "Pleasure, any other questions." When no one raised their hand, she continued, "Alright then, everyone get your homework out, put it on your desk, please, and line up outside the door."

Everyone in the class quickly rose, chattering excitedly as they followed her instructions.

Harry sighed as he did the same, placing his carefully completed homework on his desk and rising to his feet, to make his way to the front of the class, well behind everyone else. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of passing his cousin's gang, which, of course, earned him a shove from Dudley, sending him flying into a bunch of desks before falling onto the cold, hard floor.

As usual, Dudley and his friend's found this incredibly amusing, and started laughing as they made their way to the door. However, this time, unlike all the previous times, they were halted.

"Mr. Dursley, Mr. Polkiss, Mr. Martin and Mr. Gibson!" gone was all of the warmth that had been present in the teacher's tone since her arrival, her voice seemed cold enough to make ice, and it certainly froze them in place. Her lovely face was almost expressionless, with the exception of how firmly she had her lips pressed together, evidently to stop herself from yelling at them, while her vivid eyes were ablaze with fury.

"Y-yes, Miss P.?" Dudley finally managed to ask, albeit nervously.

"That was completely unacceptable!" she replied after a moment's tense silence.

"Wh-what w-was, ma'am?"

"Your cousin did absolutely nothing to deserve that." Was the teacher's reply. "Apologize," her eyes narrowed when he opened his mouth to object, "immediately."

Deciding that he probably shouldn't argue with the teacher (a wise move for the pig in a wig, as Harry thought of him), Dudley stomped over to his cousin, and offered a muttered, "Sorry."

However, when he turned to make his way towards the door, the teachers cold voice froze both him and his friends, who had been inching towards the door, in place again.

"Ah-ah-ah," Potier her head. "Help him up." She instructed.

Pouting at this indignity, Dudley spun around again, stomped over to his cousin again, and pulled him roughly to his feet.

This time, Dudley was smart enough to wait for further instruction.

"Come here please, Harry." Harry hesitantly did so as she continued. "Now, Mr. Dursley, fix the desks. On your own." She added, when his friend's moved to help him.

It took Dudley almost two minutes to do so, and he was sweating heavily by the time he'd finished.

"Now, collect the homework, and put it on my desk. I expect all of it to be there, as I know everyone took theirs out today." Miss Potier informed him. "You are to do this on your own. When you are done, you and your friends may join us. All four of you will also stay after class today, for detention. We will be waiting for you in the entrance hall."

Had he been conscious, he certainly would've wondered why he didn't remember 'Miss Potier', as the week she substituted was, up to that point, undoubtedly the best week of his life. She'd always been nice to him, helped him with his homework, and she never let Dudley pick on him. Not that he didn't try, in fact, Dudley and his gang had detention every night that week, and one on Saturday, which was generally only a punishment for severe misdemeanors, but the school board, for some reason, never even thought to ask what they'd done to deserve being there.

Of course, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were far from pleased with all of that, but they never thought to punish Harry for it, because they thought Harry was being punished along with Dudley and his friends...

It was Christmas Eve, and six-year-old Harry Potter was outside in the garden, crying. It was very cold out, but he didn't really notice, he was far too distressed for that. He'd never really known that Christmas was supposed to be a special time for everyone, he'd always just assumed it was another time for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to shower Dudley with presents...

But that was before he'd started school. And, in school, he'd learned otherwise.

He was supposed to get presents too! But he never would... His aunt and uncle hated him, he had no idea why... They just... did.

And that hurt more then he ever thought possible.

"Something wrong?"

Harry's head snapped up, and he blinked repeatedly as he looked up at the figure before him.

It was a girl with long dark hair and bright green eyes that were watching him with concern. The girl was very pretty, not that he was old enough to really notice, but he did notice that she seemed concerned for him... something he really wasn't used to.

Suddenly realizing that he'd been staring, he stuttered, "N-no, th-thank you..."

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm n-not c-crying." He forced the reply, shivering as he suddenly realized how cold he was.

He gave a start when the cold disappeared, and looked back up at the girl, who offered him a slight smile. He noticed that she was no longer wearing the coat she'd had on over the long white dress she now wore. Instead, that coat was what was encasing him in a protective, gentle and quite pleasant warmth. He was about the protest, when she offered a small, white-gloved hand to him.

When he hesitantly took the proffered hand, he was pulled to his feet.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" the girl offered, still smiling.

"I-I don't want to impose..." Harry replied automatically. It was the reply his aunt and uncle had ingrained in him for as long as he could remember. They didn't like it when he talked to strangers.

"Oh, it isn't a problem," the girl replied. "I don't like to walk alone. Shall we?" she smiled, gesturing to the gate.

"Al-alright," Harry replied, after a moment's hesitation.

The girl's smile widened and she led the way over to the gate, brushing the snow that coated the handle aside, she opened the gate and waved him through.

Harry frowned, and shook his head. "Ladies first..."

She laughed, "Why thank you," she replied, stepping through and to the side, to hold the gate open for him.

"Thanks," Harry murmured softly as stepped through still clutching the dark green coat she'd wrapped around his shoulders.

"You can put it on, if you like."

Harry blinked, but nonetheless did so. It was, undoubtedly, the finest garment he'd ever worn: soft, smooth white silk lining the inside, fine, soft black leather on the outside.

"This is a lovely neighborhood," she offered as they made their way down the street.

Harry blinked, and looked up. Yes, he suddenly realized, looking around in wonder, Privet Drive did look rather nice during the holidays. While it was undoubtedly the most boring street you could ever find at any other time throughout the year, it was quite lovely when snow covered the ground and tiny lights glittered from their arrangements in the trees.

"I'm Vivian, by the way. What's your name?"

"Harry..." he replied softly, still staring around him in wonder.

"It's nice to meet you, Harry."

Once again, had he been conscious, Harry would wonder why he hadn't remembered that evening. He certainly remembered the next morning, when his uncle had told him to go get the mail, and he'd found a package addressed to himself in the small pile. He hadn't opened it 'till later that evening, when the Dursleys were asleep. He'd opened his very first Christmas present inside his tiny cupboard. It was a small, locket with an elegantly scrolled P embossed on the golden front. He still wore that locket today. He'd never taken it off. Inside was a picture of his mother and father.

He could remember thinking that it must've been from his parent's then. That it was a sign. A sign that they really did love him... That someone did...

~ * ~

The stunned silence that followed Vivian's reading of the letter hung there fore several minutes. For one thing, this was not the Petunia Dursley, Harry's Muggle Aunt, that those who had 'met' her knew... for another... Well, the letter's contents were in themselves disturbing...

Finally, Vivian decided to break the silence. "Well," she sighed, "that was... interesting."

"Why would Harry agree to that?" Ron demanded slowly, his eyes still wide.

"Presumably," Vivian shrugged, "because he doesn't want to betray his... host. But he still want's to come back here..."

"What does that have to do with anything? And why would he care about the person who kidnapped him?"

"Perhaps because he wasn't kidnapped?" Vivian offered, and continued before he could respond. "The spell makes sense in that regard. It protects both Harry, and his host."

"How does it protect Harry?" Ginny asked. "And... Who does he need to be protected from, if not his k...host?"

Vivian didn't reply, choosing instead to carefully refold the letter and hand it back to the headmaster, waiting for them to answer that question themselves. It didn't take long... for Hermione, at least.

"From us..." the Gryffindor genius gasped, eyes wide.

"Us?" Ron demanded, "What'd you mean: us?"

The Auror General chose that moment to cut in. "I've seen it before..." she sighed, "and it's not like this case doesn't fit the profile..."

"What...?"

"Due to the stress of the kidnapping, it's not uncommon for the victim and their friend's and family to feel... a bit uncomfortable around each other after the initial relief wears off. Unfortunately, in far too many cases, they will misplace whatever guilt and/or anger they are feeling... I've seen many friendships die that way." The Auror sighed. "Mr. Potter's case is only worse, because you know he knows something that he's not telling you, and you of course believe that he is truly your friend then he should be able to trust you with anything. That he shouldn't keep secret's from you. In reality, a secret is something the person who knows it can not tell for some reason or another, it is a little known fact that may cause any number of terrible things by becoming known..."

"But friends shouldn't keep secrets from one another!" Ron protested.

"Why?"

The redhead blinked, "What...?"

"Why?" Vivian repeated. "There are something's that some people just aren't capable of handling or even comprehending. There are times when a person's very life may depend on a secret. What do you think the Fidelius Charm is?" she continued before he could respond. "Secrets aren't always held out of lack of trust, my friend. More often then not, they're made and held to protect someone. And holding usually won't hurt people who they otherwise don't affect. It is those people themselves who cause the pain."

"But..." Ron shook his head, obviously struggling for an appropriate response. "Friends should trust each other."

"Yes," the Auror nodded, her voice soft, "they should. But that trust goes both ways. Are you really being a good friend if you force your own friend to break his word? To endanger another friend? Are you being a good friend by giving him grief when he refuses to do so?"

Nearly a whole minute of absolute silence followed these words, as everyone present recognized the disturbing truth in them. This time, it was Professor McGonagall who broke the heavy silence.

"So what do you propose we do?" the Head of Gryffindor house inquired, meeting the younger witch's eyes. "Pretend this never happened?"

"Of course not," Vivian shook her head, "but you shouldn't give him grief over something that you're not even entriely sure was his fault. Something that, in all likely, wasn't his fault...As to how we should move forward with these instructions," she continued with a sigh, nodding to the carefully folded letter that rested on the Headmaster's desk. "I do believe it would be best if we followed them. Arabella, Alastor and I will meet Mr. Potter in Central Park, and escort him to the Ministry."

"What...?" Ron blinked, "Why the Ministry?"

"To my sector," Vivian continued, "as standard protocol requires. He will be given a complete check up with a healer, and we take whatever testimony he is willing and able to give. On September first, we will take him to Platform nine-and-three-quarters."

Professor Dumbledore nodded, "A well conceived plan. And what of Mr. Potter's safety during the school year?"

"I would like to have an Auror watching Mr. Potter at all times," Vivian replied readily, "as a guard."

"But..." Professor McGonagall frowned, "won't that disrupt classes?" she asked, looking back and fourth between her Headmaster and the Auror General.

"No," Vivian shook her head, smiling slightly. "You won't even notice they're there - unless Harry's threatened - I can promise that."

~ * ~

"Masks," the Dark Lord ordered.

Obediently, the members of the Trusted Inner Circle removed their Death Eater mask's slipping them into one of the pockets that lined the inside of their dark robes. While the masks were needed to protect the identities of Voldemort's followers from traitors, that was not something he had to worry about with this Circle. For, in truth, they couldn't betray him.

"Lucius."

In answering to the Dark Lord's summons, the tall blonde stepped out of the crowd gracefully, and bowed (ever so slightly) with no less grace. "Yes, my lord?" the regal servant inquired.

"Have you learned anything new of the young General?" Lord Voldemort inquired of one of his most trusted servants.

"I regret to say I have not, my lord," the Lord of the Malfoy Manor replied quietly, his tone subdued, as was appropriate for reporting a failure, but he did not bow his head as most Death Eater's would.

Surprisingly though, the Dark Lord himself was not disturbed by neither the lack of total humbleness, nor the mention of failure. "That is not surprising."

While Lucius Malfoy wore no mask to conceal his emotions, his expression betrayed nothing. "My lord?"

Ignoring the inquiry, Voldemort thought for a moment, before issuing his command. "Continue to watch the young protege, but do not harm her, no matter how tempting an opportunity is presented. If the chance presents itself, bring her to me. But only if the chance is truly there. I want her alive, and preferably unharmed..."

As bewildered as he humanly must have felt, the blonde's features did not betray him before, during or after he bowed. "Of course, my lord."

Lord Voldemort nodded, "You may go..."

~ * ~

It was a quiet and weary room after Vivian's departure. The confidence she'd radiated having departed with her, leaving all of them alone with their doubts.

"Shouldn't we be happy?" Ginny asked after several minutes of silence, looking around. "I mean, Harry's alright, isn't he? And he's coming back!"

Many of the others nodded, but the dark atmosphere remained.

"We would've done it, too." Professor McGonagall murmured quietly, almost to herself.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"Blamed him..." her House Head replied quietly, blinking back tears. "H-hurt him..."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement, his eyes sad. "It is in human nature, after all." He thought a moment, before continuing, "Well then, I propose we each swear to do no such thing." As he said this, he opened one of his desk drawers, and pulled out a small golden box, placing it gently on the surface of his desk before carefully flipping the lid open. As the lid fell back, pale white white-gold light rose from inside the box, before slowly taking the form of a ball of light.

"A fidem sphere?" Remus murmured, staring at it in astonishment, much like many of the others. Although the younger generation obviously had no idea of what it was. "How in Merlin's name did you get one of those?"

"Oh, I've been saving it," the Headmaster replied quietly, before turning his eyes to the orb and continuing in a much more serious tone. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, initiate this fidem sphere with a solemn oath to do Mr. Harry James Potter no intentional harm, be it emotional or otherwise, in regard to these recent event, so long as it is in my power..."

The ball released a burst of light, and when it had faded, Dumbledore himself was glowing, faintly, with that same light. When he turned his twinkling eyes to them, Professor McGonagall stepped forward.

"I, Minerva McGonagall hereby second the oath; in all content."

As Professor Flitwick stepped forward, Ron leaned over toward Hermione, "What's going on?" he whispered.

"It's a fidem sphere," the brunette whispered back. "It's one way of giving your word as a wizard, and it doesn't let you break it... not easily, anyway."

"What'd you mean?"

"Well, from what I've read on it, it'll let you know when your coming close to breaking your word... and if you actually do break your word... well..." Hermione winced. "It's bad luck... on level with breaking a magic mirror..."

"Oh..." Ron winced, as well.

However, when it came time for there generation to step forward, they weren't anywhere near as reluctant as Snape, who'd taken a rather long time to complete his oath... In the end, no one held back...

Therefore, now the question was... would they be pleased with the results of this pledge... and would they be able to keep it?

~ * ~

Almost 1 month later... (August 30th)

It had taken the Boy-Who-Lived quite a bit of time to recover from the incident earlier on in the month... Nonetheless, recover he had. He was currently in his room... or, actually, his rooms... packing his trunk.

"Would you like any help?"

Harry didn't bother turning as he placed the last of his schoolbooks in the trunk. "No thank you, Vivian, I'm fine."

"I did not inquire after your health, brother dear," Vivian replied, her tone indicating her amusement as she came up alongside him. "I simply asked if you would like any help packing."

"No," Harry sighed, shaking his head, "thank you... I'm finished anyway." He noted, nodding to the trunk.

"Ah... Very well then," Vivian nodded, waving her wand to close the lid and send it out into the hallway. When Harry turned to follow it, her hand on his shoulder halted him. "Harry..."

"What?" he asked, or more precisely; snapped, his nerves and weariness leaking through. It had been a hard month, his recovery. And he still wasn't fully recovered; he still suffered from the occasional light-headedness, dizziness, and of course; extreme fatigue. As the dark circles under his eyes could attest to, he was always tired nowadays.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" the young wizard demanded, too tired to try and figure it out for himself. His recovery hadn't been helped by his 'visions'... Voldemort had been rather moody the entire month... And Harry had to wonder if he himself was catching it...]

"Don't block me out, please..."

It wasn't really the words, but more the way she said them that made the Boy-Who-Lived stop and turn to face his older sibling. He'd been with her for the entire summer... and he'd never heard her beg... never thought he'd see it... but that was what that sentence had truly been...

She didn't even try to hide it. It was now that he noticed his sister. He hadn't given it much thought before, but this had to have been a hard month, a hard summer, for Vivian... and it showed.

The General's usually immaculate hair was unusually ruffled, her skin was paler then usual, her clothing, like her hair, not quite as refined as it should be... But it was her eyes that caught and held him. Eyes so much like his own; their mother's eyes... Deep, endless pools of irradiant emeralds... but they were dark now. Dark with worry, with exhaustion... and fear...

"I waited so long, Harry," Vivian continued quietly. "So long... For fifteen years I watched you all, but I could never go forward. Never truly help you. Never speak to you. Only watch, and listen. And shield you where I could..." she held his weary gaze with her own. "Don't make me go back to that shadows, Harry. Let me in, let me stay." Her pleas were enhanced by a trembling touch to his cheek. "Let me help..."

Harry nodded mutely, watching in horrified fascination as a single tear slipped down one of her pale cheeks.

After a moment, Vivian blinked forced a laugh, withdrawing her hand to brush the tear aside. "I'm sorry..." she muttered quietly, "I'm just a bit tired..." the Auror quickly pulled herself together, and continued before he could comment. "You understand how this is going to work?"

The teen didn't reply immediately, but decide after several moment's of silence, that it could be allowed to wait, and nodded. "Yes, I'll take the Portkey to the suite in the Hilton Islington, go down to the lobby and wait for the limo. Then take the limo to King's Cross."

"Right..." Vivian nodded, smiling slightly. "Don't worry, Harry. You'll do fine."

"It's just..." the young wizard sighed, shaking his head. "I don't want to risk your being hurt... and I'm a little worried about what they're going to say...I didn't want to worry them."

"I know... I know..." the General replied softly, taking him into a gentle embrace. "Shh..." she soothed, rubbing comforting circles on his back. "They missed you..."

"I know," Harry choked quietly, shaking his head slightly. This was, of course, one of the things he'd miss. He could still remember how good it had felt to be wrapped in Mrs. Weasley's comforting, motherly embrace at the end of Fourth Year... It had been wonderful, but it wasn't the same as this... and he knew, he didn't know how, he just knew his mother's would be quite different as well... And now he had to leave his big sister's comfort behind as well...

End of Chapter 12.

Translations:

Consanguina - related by blood

Stataria - stable

Deflagro - to cease burning/abate/cool

Malacae - a calm at sea

Paean - the healer, a surname of Apollo

Relaxare - to ease/lighten/ relax

Rhombi - a magician's circle

Mathematica - mathematical

Litterara - of reading and writing

Veterrimus - the ancients

Dulcis - sweet water

Gnaritas - knowledge

Nundinari - great numbers

Fidem - to pledge one's word

Response to Reviewers

Jaded*Secrets - Hi!

LOL, ok, thanks. ^_^*

*Shrugs* Yeah... I guess it is... And it's not that hard, so I don't see why most authors don't try responding to their reviewers. I mean, we ask for them, shouldn't we respond to them?

Oh! Guess what! I just found out last Saturday; I'm going to be an aunt too! My sister-in-law is two months pregnant! :-D

Have you got the chance to meet your niece yet?

LOL... that is pretty funny. She sound's adorable! ^_^

Well, if you reading this late again; Sweet Dreams! (And if you're not: Good morning, Good afternoon, and Good evening! ^_^)

Bye! ^_^

Serpent of Light (a.k.a. Sunrunner of Summer) -

LOL, you're welcome...

Well, not yet anyway... you'll have to wait and see. ^_^

LOL, why? You don't want your mum to read your work, or something?

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

Lovevanillacreme -

LOL, well here it is. What'd you think?

Xirleb70 -

Thank you ^_^, that's always good to hear...

So you don't like working on more then one story at a time? I can understand that...

Makulit - ()

LOL, yeah, I guess... ^_^

Well... not quite, but they will be seeing him soon...

LOL, true... don't worry, this does have a plot... we just haven't really gotten to it yet...

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

Rachel A. Prongs -

LOL, well, not yet anyway... Yes, the circle does have some significance in the story, you were right.

Sorry about the longer wait for this one. And thank you.

Bye! ^_^

Ginny Potter -

Thank you. LOL, I know what that's like.

As de corazones -

LOL, thank you. ^_^

Yes, yes... I like mysterious relatives, they're fun! ^_^

Yeah, I invented the spell. And I agree, it'd be wonderful to have in real life! Ok, thanks.

I'll try. I'm aiming for an update on LS next, now that I can finally talk to V-Star about it again...

Yeah, I guess I should...Harry's mostly been out of the picture up to this point, hasn't he?

Well, not easily... but he'll be going back...

Thank you, and thanks for reviewing!

Bye! ^_^

Dracosgirl55 -

Thank you very much. ^_^

LittleEar BigEar's sis -

LOL, Thank you. ^_^

I'm glad you like it. How was this chapter?

Liberty Belleview -

LOL ^_^

-_-* Well, yes... but a big problem is that they already 'know' her, they've spent a lot of time with her, and they feel bad for accusing her before... So they're brains kind of leave her out of the running.

Yeah, Tonks was great wasn't she? She was one of my faves from bk5...

LOL, thanks for reviewing. How was the trampoline?

Karen -

LOL, thank you. ^_^

Pheonixrising1 - ()

Thank you. ^_^

How was your trip?

LOL, very good, very good. Yes, that's pretty much what happened, except the whole world can only remember so much... 1. They only knew so much, & 2. They're now capable of remembering, but that doesn't mean the definitely will... it just means that Vivian could now say that she was Harry's sister, and they'd believe her, whereas they wouldn't of even considered it before...

How was this chapter.

*Sigh* Ok, the '1' thing... I didn't add it to mine, FF.net did. It's their new rule, announced on the 2nd: "From today forward, no two FanFiction.Net members will share the same pen name. All members now have unique names that cannot be forged. Conflicts for same pen names on existing accounts have been resolved in the following manner:

Naming priority is given to members that have published stories. Naming priority is given to older members. Conflicted names have a number appended to the end as result of priority rules.

The unique pen-name system is designed to give writers the opportunity to grow their reputation without interference and was not pre-announced to prevent abuse."

I don't like it, and I've already complained, but they haven't replied or changed. It's annoying really. If you're #1, that means that there was only one person who picked that penname before you. For me at least, there is only one other person, and she has one story that hasn't been updated in 2 years!...Ok, I'll stop... deep breath, Jess... calm down... Well, anyway. I hope that helps...

Thanks for reviewing! ^_^

Totallystellar - ()

Hi Meghan! Welcome! ^_^

LOL, I must say, it was interesting to watch your reviews coming up (I have review alert, so I receive all of the reviews by email). I'm glad you like the story that much.

Yes, Snape isn't the most lovable character, is he? Well, you can't say he's (really) OOC!

Yeah, I know, that was one of the things I was specifically avoiding. Harry can grow a bit, but if you change him too much he's not Harry! I have another fic where he changes a lot more, but he had *a LOT* more time (over 2000 years) to do so!

LOL, yeah details tend to matter to me... I can become very annoyed over the tiniest things... I like writing humor in with my stories, but just a touch of it.

LOL, Thank you. :-P ( ^_^ )

LOL, I remember getting this one... Yes, I know the feeling (referring to review for ch11)

Oh... I can't really answer that... Vivian's a complex character, but you can guess a few of the reasons she'd be holding back... And you'll have to wait till the next chapter for the answer to the last question! :-P

LOL, thank you.

And thanks for the effort. It was really very touching. ^_^

Bye! ^_^

Everpresent - ()

LOL. Well I hope you had a nice trip.

Yeah, you're right... "Tonks" does seem a little harsh for a boyfriend... of course, "Dora" sounds a little soft for her character, don't you think? *Shrugs* They could always have a nickname for her, one that isn't drawn from her name...

LOL... LOL... *Shakes head* You know, I did actually write that scene at one point, as you put it; "Everyone falling over themselves trying to jump through the nearest Floo to Potier Manor"

Yes, it does sound pretty cool, doesn't it?

Umm.... Ship? Not at the moment, no... maybe later. You're right, it would only be a side plot. I have nothing against H/G, so I'll consider it, but I'm really not sure where that aspect of the story will be going... I've been concentrating on others.

Fan4life -

Thanks. ^_^

AN: Well, that's it for Chapter 12! I hope it was worth the wait! Now, I really don't know how quickly the next chapter will be out. I have to start getting ready for school soon, and I want to update a bunch of other stories. So I'll try to get at least one more chapter out this month, but I don't know when it will be ready...

REVIEW!

REVIEW!!

REVIEW!!!

REVIEW!!!

REVIEW!!!

REVIEW!!!...please?

Bye! ^_^

~ Jess S