I'm back! Sorry about not updating, my life's gotten just a little hectic right now. But never fear for I am determined to carry Apostate to its conclusion. Just as soon as I figure what and when that conclusion will be. And now, our feature presentation.

Nine scariest words.

Harry slowly, painfully came to. Or thought he came to. He was defiantly aware of himself, his surroundings consisted of a shapeless pink blob hanging over him. Then he felt his glasses slip onto his face and the blob became the face of Bella. The very angry face of Bella.

"I can't believe that man! If the aurors or whatever they call the local versions didn't show up, I'd have killed him! Where does he get off stunning everyone that wanders into the door?" She paused a moment, perhaps for air, as she was breathing very hard. Then she continued.

"And you! What were you thinking trying to touch something magical you knew nothing about! Have you learned nothing in six years of Hogwarts? And how do you know anything about Horcruxes?"

Harry groaned. In his opinion, he was barely up to coherent speech, much less getting the ninth-degree from someone who would have gladly killed him just a few days ago. All of which served to remind Harry that he had no idea where he was and how long he'd been out. "Uh, Bella, where are we?"

"Somewhere secure. That's all they'll say. 'somewhere secure.'"

"Who's they?"

"The local government. They took us here to find out what set off the gadget back there. And what two figures from Britain's ten most wanted list are doing wandering down Penny Lane in broad daylight. They're also pretty interested to know why they shouldn't just turn us over to the Ministry to face 'justice.'"

"Then we'll have to persuade them. First, though, we need to talk with them. Do you know how we do that?"

"Couldn't you break through the door with wandless magic, summon our wands and fight our way to the high muck-a-muck's office?"

"Ehhh, no. I can't do wandless magic, yet. And slaughtering every American between here and there is probably not the way to get them talking. Couldn't you just ask?"

"Well, if you're going to take all the fun out of my life, I suppose we could just ask. Hey guard! He's awake we want to talk to your master! Don't just stand there looking like a stupid muggle, get to it!"

Harry considered telling her that insulting the guards probably wouldn't score them brownie points with whoever's in charge. Or that comparing someone to ninety-eight percent of the population probably isn't a very good insult. But the damage was done, the moment passed. Now all he could do was wait.


Across the mighty Atlantic, McGonagall's bad week seemed to be extending itself into a month. With the passing of the latest act, the Minister could do no wrong. And he intended to use that. While the rest of England oohed and aahed, he'd continued Fudge's legacy of difficult and ridiculous educational decrees to constrict the teachers of Hogwarts. The phrase 'squeezing blood from a stone' came to mind often. Scrimgoeur was squeezing blood from a stone castle. Three teachers had come to her already, saying that if the decrees were still in effect come September, they were out. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. Mostly because their replacements would be chosen by the Ministry. She tried to conjure an image of happier days to sooth herself, but her aged memory failed her. Perhaps it was time to look into a pensieve?

Okay I'm done. Please don't be mad at me for the short chapter. I have big plans and not enough time here to write them all. Another chapter is on the way and I promise you won't have to wait six months for it. Sheesh, you make one mistake…