The Time in Between

December 22nd, 1992 - Tonks Residence

Nymphadora Tonks woke up late in the morning following Abbott's party. Even after waking up, she just stared at the ceiling and went over everything that happened the previous day.

Lyra was a unique girl. Both she and Harry had been raised… somewhere… outside of the influence of the Blacks, that much she was sure of. Neither of them was stuffy like the purebloods she knew in school, and they didn't seem to be inclined to change either. They were certainly raised around magic, but somehow still looked at the world like a muggleborns.

Brandt was different, as well, and being a muggleborn at Durmstrang could not have been easy. It was one of the few magical schools that had an entrance exam, which meant that they didn't technically discriminate between muggle or magical-raised students, you just needed to know enough magic to pass the tests of entry at eleven years old… which was nearly impossible for muggleborn wizards. Then there was the education, much of which was more physical, and the Dark Arts were part of the curriculum instead of learning specifically how to defend against them.

Yet somehow, despite all of that, he was cultured, protective of the children, dedicated to his position in a way that wasn't obsessive, and not a bad person. Even more, was his betrothal, he seemed ok to be forced into a marriage. She made a list in her head of all the older girls she went to school with who could potentially be his fiance, but it was too long of a list. She assumed the girl would have to be quite a catch for him to be as loyal as he made himself out to be. That narrowed the list quite a bit, but she couldn't be sure as there were so many other schools she could be from, outside of Hogwarts.

She was about to start thinking about his claims as to why they were involving her but decided it would be better to discuss that with her parents instead of just in her head. So after slipping on a fluffy robe, she headed down to the kitchen.

Her parents were sitting at the table, eating their breakfasts, and her mother said as she approached, "You know, Nymphadora, we can eat only so slow while waiting for you before we have to get seconds and thirds to continue waiting."

Her father smiled, "All that eating is going to make us fat. Is that what you want, Nymphadora? Do you want to make your mother fat?"

Both of them used her name, which they knew she didn't like, so she shifted her body until she was a clone of her mother, but with a large gut sticking out.

"I don't see what's so bad about it," she said as she turned to the side so they could both see the gut, and made it a bit bigger so it poked out the front of her robe. "I was planning to go over to Elmswood Lodge later today to get house-elf pancakes for lunch."

Her mother gave a playful frown and put a toasted bagel on her plate, "Sit down and tell us what we need to know."

Smiling at her back, Tonks shifted back to darker skin and spiked purple hair, then plopped down on her seat and started to prepare her bagel as she told them all about the day before, starting from when she arrived.

Her father interrupted her right away, "You wore the disco shoes and the spiked bracelets together and he didn't send you home?"

"I know, right?" she said back. "I expected his head to fall off, but he just looked a bit shocked. He's evidently been exposed to muggle pop culture and fashion. I should have worn a dog collar."

"Definitely not," Andromeda told her, "That's a bit over the line, I know you got it for that Halloween costume, but I hope you never wear it for casual use."

Tonks gave a wink to her mother, who just rolled her eyes.

"How is Mr. Potter being treated?" her father asked.

"Oddly enough, I had no concerns there," she told him. "Steward Brandt seemed genuinely interested in helping his education and in teaching him how to start a business. His first venture is importing demiguise hair to the UK."

Both her parents' eyes widened as her mother said, "We've all heard about the talking demiguise, but it must be quite difficult to harvest that much hair from a single creature."

"It's not just one, and apparently, they're huge. Harry and Lyra had enough hair with them to offset the price of a yeti fur-trimmed jacket for Lyra." She waited for a moment to watch her parents' expressions, before continuing, "They said that their demiguise, Whispers, his father is my height, and his mother is a bit taller than Harry. They even mentioned a larger one, taller than the Steward."

"Well, that's something," her father said as he took a big swig of coffee.

"The point is, I'm genuinely confused as to their intentions. You've been telling me my whole life what kind of evil people they are, and I'm not saying you're wrong, just that I'm not seeing it."

Andromeda nodded, "Believe me, it's there. Did you find out anything about their intentions towards you?"

"Actually yes," she told her mother. "Through sheer coincidence, I smoothed over some situation with a trading minister that Brandt was in negotiations with; and I demanded, as repayment, that he reveal his plans for me."

"And he did?" her mother asked with shock.

"He said that he had a bet with Arcturus over when we would demand answers and that they both lost because Brandt thought I would ask before the party and Arcturus thought you would kick down the doors to the manor and beat it out of him."

"That sounds like the woman I married," Theodore smiled and kissed the back of his wife's hand. Then turning back to his daughter, "So, what did he say?"

"Brandt says that he believes Arcturus is trying to reunite the Black family and persuade me to take the name for myself."

Her parents were silent for a moment before they both started laughing. It took them nearly a minute to calm down.

"That was my reaction too, I might have embarrassed him in the middle of the party when I did it. Brandt has his own reasons as well, he wants a positive role model for Lyra who can teach her about women's issues." Her mother chuckled, as she added, "He was very polite in admitting that he had no idea how to talk to a little girl about her body."

"Well you know," her father began, "If he's telling you this much, he's got to have at least a dozen more plans as well. The only question remains, what do you want to do?"

"I need to think about it," she told her parents. "I have the key to Elmswood Lodge for the next month, and I plan to take advantage of it."

Her mother's eyes sparkled with reminiscence, "I remember going there as a teenager, that bathtub is the greatest thing in the world."

"Brandt says you two are welcome to join me, but the elf there won't pay attention to either of you."

"We'll give you one night on your own before joining you for dinner tomorrow."

December 25th, 3 p.m. - Elmswood Lodge

Tonks stomped into the house, not even bothering to shift back to her normal form after seeing Lucius Malfoy out of Azkaban. She simply took off the oversize Auror uniform and threw it towards the coat rack, which just reached out and grabbed it, hanging it neatly on a hook. She stomped through the house until she rounded a corner to find her parents in the sitting room, drinking tea.

Her father's eyes widened at the sight of her, and said, "You can shift into Macho Man, Randy Savage?"

Tonks's voice came out of the face of a man with a dark beard, long hair, and an incredibly muscular body, "I started using American wrestlers as practice for growing extra muscles. Savage was always one of my favorites."

"I assume you were assisting Moody with Malfoy's release?" her mother asked.

"Moody gave him a sweet gut punch and I bashed his head on the ceiling and dropped him to the floor. I told him to stay away from Lyra and Harry. I guess that means I've accepted Brandt's job offer."

She started to calm down and shift back into her normal form. Opal popped in at that moment and handed her a bathrobe to replace her oversize clothes from being five inches taller and quite a bit bigger in other areas.

Andromeda raised an eyebrow and asked, "Can I see the memory?"

Tying the strap on her robe, she walked over to her mother. Both had basic occlumency and legilimency skills, which allowed for the direct sharing of memories. They gazed into each others' eyes as Tonks brought the memory to the forefront of her mind and her mother watched the brutality of Malfoy getting slugged in the stomach. When Andromeda finished the quick viewing, she turned to her husband and used legilimency to show it to him as well.

He smiled as well, but said, "Both of you have had your chance to assault that horrible man, one day, it's going to be my turn."

"I hope you never need to," Andromeda told him. Turning back to her daughter, "So you're going to assist Brandt and Arcturus with Lyra?"

"I guess so, and if Lyra and Brandt are going to be the next Blacks, I want to make sure that we don't get more like the ones in your generation."

Andromeda nodded with a grim face, "Fair enough."

December 25-26th, 1992 - Malfoy Manor

After getting home to an empty manor, Lucius didn't know what to do. He had no wand, house-elf, wife, or son, no one to assist him in anything. He just stared at the empty house for nearly ten minutes before deciding on a course of action. The very first thing he needed was a shower.

All the clothes he was wearing were set aside to be burned, all except the hideous orange sandals. Those would be saved for when he found out who that woman was who gave them to him. They would be part of her death in some way, he had time to figure out something creative for her. Then he spent the next two hours under the hot water of his shower. It still vexed him not to have his luxurious long hair, but it was nice to get it so clean so quickly.

When he finally emerged from the shower, he found the most luxurious robe he owned. The inner robe was triple-layered with acromantula silk, dyed deep purple. The outer robe was made from green and blue aurora wool. He also donned a pair of slippers made from red wool and nearly collapsed from the feeling of the softness on his feet after months of wooden sandals padded by torn bedsheets.

From there, he made himself dinner which consisted primarily of anything made of chocolate that he could find in his larder. Everything was incredibly difficult to perform, as he had to do it with only one hand, and he broke several dishes before he was able to prepare everything properly. As he ate, he read The Daily Prophet article about his release and drank a whole bottle of French wine from the year that Draco was born. It was made at a vineyard where virgin Veela stomped the grapes with their bare feet and aged the wine in barrels constructed of Wiggen wood. He was waiting to drink this when Draco finished Hogwarts, though this was as good a time as any, and he had another eleven casks of the same vintage.

Following his dinner, he sent owls to Crabbe to visit him tomorrow at 11 a.m. and to Corban Yaxley to come at 4 p.m. If he could only leave the house with an auror present, he would do so with an ally instead of one who might stab him in the back, or the front. Knowing he might have trouble sleeping after so long in Azkaban, he downed a dreamless sleep potion and passed out while still wearing the soft and luxurious robes.

When he woke up in the morning, he panicked as the light he saw through the window was heavily obstructed by clouds and made him think that he was back in prison. After screaming and almost breaking down into tears, he saw the rich blue and green sleeves of his robe and rubbed his face on the soft fabric to reassure himself that the present was real, and not just a dream to torture him.

Breakfast was again filled with chocolate to drive off the long-term dementor exposure. He also made pancakes that were topped with chocolate syrup. He had no milk for hot chocolate, so just had a bar of Honeydukes to go along with it. He would need to hire someone to do his shopping for him if he couldn't leave the house. He would tell Yaxley to find him some squib to work for him until he could find a house-elf to be bound to him.

After finishing his breakfast, he made his way to the drawing room. It was a richly anointed room that looked almost like a cathedral. In the years past, nearly every Friday and Saturday night, there were people gathered here; men discussing politics, women discussing fashion and their children, and Draco being the little lord he was and entertaining his friends with great tales of his future as Lord Malfoy. A large fireplace took up an entire side of the room - it wasn't even connected to the floo, and was hardly ever lit. It was there to show decadence - with large marble columns on either side and the Malfoy crest above it, it was the centerpiece of the room.

He made his way to the corner and pulled an old record off the shelf where his music was kept. Blowing off the dust on the cover, he drew out the vinyl record to place on the player nearby. As the music began to play, a bit of the cold that had permeated his bones from the time at Azkaban slipped away and he went to pour himself a drink from his sealed liquor cabinet. Letting the taste of a fine whiskey fill his senses, he listened to another minute of the music before walking over to a nundu skull that was mounted on the wall.

It was just a young cat, but still the size of a mundane lion. It had hung on the wall of Malfoy Manor for nearly three hundred years from the time that Morpheus Malfoy had led a group of hunters to kill one of the creatures, briefly holding the record of 112 wizards needed to take down the creature. Once it was dead, they also killed its three cubs, and Morpheus took one of them to be mounted on the wall of their manor.

Reaching up to one of the fangs, he slashed his finger and walked over to the fireplace where he smeared the blood across the crest above it. Without any noise at all, the floor inside the hearth descended to create stairs leading to a room below the drawing room. As he walked down the secret passage, torches lit up across the room.

Here was his collection of trophies and dark artifacts. The entire room was protected by an insane amount of wards and magical dampening effects, but it was all for naught because of the beacon that rested in the corner of the room. In a small chest that had its own warding and dampening effects on it was a small leather book. He walked past the severed hand of Edgar Bones giving a two-fingered salute, preserved under glass, and opened the chest to take out the book given to him by the Dark Lord.

Returning to the drawing room, he sat down at the table and stared at the old book. He flipped through the pages with his right hand and saw nothing other than the writing on the inside of the cover, reading 'I am Property of Lord Voldemort.'

Without a wand, he couldn't run any diagnostic spells and in frustration, he slammed his fist on the open book. With his fist clenched, a tiny bit of blood from his pricked finger was squeezed out and landed on the open pages. Lucius's eyes widened as the blood vanished into the pages, after a few seconds, words started to be written in green ink, which read:

"You are not me, though you carry my magic. Who are you?"

Lucius's eyes widened and rushed to get a quill and ink, when he returned he wrote back,

"I am Lucius Malfoy, is this the Dark Lord?"

His writing soaked into the page and was replaced with what was written on the inside cover,

"I am Lord Voldemort."

Those words caused Lucius's heart to swell with hope. Hope for the future, hope for his son, hope for revenge. The writing was absorbed and more was written,

"Are you Abraxas's descendent?"

"He was my father," Lucius wrote back.

"He was a trustworthy companion during my time at Hogwarts. How is it that you have come across my diary?"

"You gave it to me, told me to keep it safe"

"Where am I now?"

Lucius hesitated, should he tell his Lord about his own defeat? He would need to do so, but shook a little at the thought of doing so. Reports of failure to The Dark Lord were normally met with pain, torture, and frequently death. Even though this wasn't his failure, that wouldn't matter, he was the messenger.

Steeling his nerves, he wrote back, "You were defeated eleven years ago, and haven't been seen since."

The book didn't write back for nearly two minutes before scrawling out, "Who defeated me? Was it Dumbledore?"

"No, it was supposedly an infant, named Harry James Potter."

Another long pause from the book, then, "Tell me everything."

Lucius went on to tell the book everything about the last half-century. The presence in the book had no knowledge of anything that had transpired after his time at Hogwarts but knew quite a bit about his father and many of the original Death Eaters, enough to prove his identity was genuine. He told the adolescent Dark Lord about his rise to power and his supposed death, and the incarceration of so many followers, he also told how many followers were still free due to his manipulation of the justice system. When finally wrote about his attack on his daughter and Harry Potter, then his time in Azkaban, and release; the book told him something he had been dying to hear for over a decade.

"You were right to stay out of Azkaban. A blunt instrument would be no use on the outside, you do not appear to be such a person. A true Slytherin is no use locked up. If you were imprisoned, you wouldn't be able to speak with me today."

Relief flooded through him as it never had before. Bellatrix had called out to him over and over while in Azkaban from the base of the tower, telling him he would be rewarded for joining the faithful in Azkaban. That by joining the other martyrs, he would share in the Dark Lord's favor when he returned. That made him even more fearful of the Dark Lord if he returned and Lucius wasn't behind bars. But now that burden was lifted.

As he was relishing in the feeling, the clock struck 10 a.m. and Lucius was reminded of his meeting with Crabbe in an hour. He wrote in the book:

"I have a meeting with one of your followers in an hour. Spencer Crabbe, son of Harlan Crabbe, sworn wand of House Malfoy. He played the key role in my release from Azkaban and will probably be asking for a boon in repayment for his service."

"I wish to speak with him too, but face to face. Place your mark on my diary."

Without hesitation, and with the desire to see his Lord again, Lucius placed the book against his twisted left arm. He felt something magical reach out but failed to connect. It tried a few more times, but it was not able to connect. If Lucius were a muggle he could have compared the situation with trying to scan a barcode on a vacuum-sealed bag of celery.

When the magic didn't attempt to connect again, Lucius opened the diary and saw writing appear on the page again,

"It seems like your mark is too corrupted from the attack for me to gain power from it. When you have completed your business with Spencer Crabbe, I permit you to tell him about my existence and order him to touch his mark on this book so I may speak to you both."

Lucius left the book on the table and went to change out of the soft robes he had slept in, into something more formal to meet with Crabbe. At 11 a.m. sharp, the fireplace in his foyer roared to life, and Spencer Crabbe stepped out of it. He spied Lucius waiting for him and gasped in shock at the gaunt appearance of his longtime companion and man who he had sworn to protect.

"What happened to your hair?" he asked, astonished.

"Moody, and one other. They discovered the unicorn hairs I kept there and cast a balding hex on me. When I went into Azkaban, I didn't have a hair on my head. The list of revenge grows longer as I think about everything, I will meet with Yaxley later today to help." After a bit of a pause as Lucius seemed to be focusing on the torment of others, he continued, "Join me in the drawing room."

Crabbe gave a strange look at the old book sitting on the table as he sat in the overstuffed chair across from Lucius.

"So, how did you get me out?" Lucius asked.

Crabbe frowned as he responded, "I needed to use over half of my blackmail portfolio. Information and debts even my father had not used before he passed. Fudge was particularly hard to pressure with Black regaining his influence and I needed to call in many others to help until he was convinced to sign the release papers."

"You have done well, what boon would you have from me for your dedicated service?"

"Boons, plural," Crabbe responded confidently. "There are multiple things I would have you grant and work towards. I would have your political influence, what's left of it, aimed towards my family's ascension to a seat on the Wizengamot. I would have your cooperation in finding my son a favorable marriage to one of the children of the Sacred 28. I would have your financial assistance in obtaining a sworn wand for my family. The last thing, I am sure you would help me with anyways, I would have you help me kill Steward Brandt and Harry Potter."

Those were quite incredible requests but Lucius smiled as he looked down at the diary that lay in front of him.

While still smiling, he told Crabbe, "All of those are manageable, and we can obtain them for you with the help of this book here on the table."

"How?" Crabbe demanded.

"Read inside the cover," he instructed the man and watched the expression on the man's face change to an innumerable array of reactions as he read the name there.

"What is this?" he demanded as he started to put it back down.

"Hold the book to your mark."

Crabbe looked skeptical, but with the promise of the boons he had requested in his mind, he held the book up to the faded pink mark on his left forearm. As soon as it was in contact, the book adhered to his arm, and Crabbe screamed. A visible stream of magic seemed to come out of his body; black, silver, and red vapor poured through his eyes, nose, and mouth as a river of magic flew into the diary stuck on his arm. He desperately tried to pull off the book but it did not budge.

Finally, he collapsed, and the book fell to the ground as well, the mark on his arm as dark as the day it was given. Lucius was watching the whole process with interest at the magic taking place but without concern for the flailing man, who had been crying out in pain. He was smiling inside that this hadn't been his fate. A few seconds after the book and the man hit the floor, he could hear Crabbe groaning. So he hadn't died, and while he waited for whatever was going to happen next, he went to his liquor cabinet and took out a Pepper-up potion, and poured two glasses of fire whiskey, placing the potion and one of the glasses in front of Crabbe's seat on the table. He had to make three trips with one hand before he placed his drink down at his spot and by that time, the darkened mark on Crabbe's arm had faded back to the light pink it had been before.

He picked up the diary and wrote inside,

"Now what?"

"Is Crabbe awake?"

"Barely."

"Wake him and tell me."

With great effort, he dragged the groaning man into his chair and poured the bottle of Pepper-up down his throat. He sputtered and coughed, but eventually, enough got down his throat to wake him up and be fully conscious. There was a steady trickle of smoke out of his ears as he stared at the book on the table.

"Wh... wh… what was that?" he stuttered.

"That was the power of our Lord," Lucius replied. Then scribbled into the book.

The diary glowed for a moment, and then the blank pages fluttered and turned quickly toward the middle book. There was a cracking noise as the binding between the pages grew pale green and a beam of light poured out of the book until it coalesced into the ghostly figure of a teenage boy with neat black hair and Hogwarts robes of a Slytherin student.

He surveyed the expressions of the two men, before saying, "So you are two of my greatest servants. Abraxas Malfoy was a welcome companion during my days at Hogwarts. I did not know Harlan Crabbe but was told about his birth. It is good to know he survived to continue his line of proper wizards."

Crabbe stared at the young boy, and asked cautiously, "You are the Dark Lord?"

"I am what the Dark Lord was," he began. "I have the potential to be all that he became and more."

Crabbe was skeptical, "I can believe that you were the younger self of my Lord, but how can you be anything more than what you are now?"

"For that, I will need your assistance, for which you will be rewarded greatly. Those of my servants locked up with the dementors will be rewarded for their undying loyalty, but now they are useless to me. The two of you will be honored above any that sacrificed their lives and possibly their souls to proclaim their loyalty from behind the black walls of Azkaban."

Both men smiled at the possibility of being raised above Bellatrix and the others imprisoned there.

"Your assistance will be needed in reviving my greatest weapon, but for that, I need to return to Hogwarts."

Now they were confused, "What kind of weapon is it?" Lucius asked.

Teenage Lord Voldemort had his turn to look confused now. "You do not know of it? Abraxas knew it. Did I not use it during the war?" Both men shrugged, they had no great weapon other than their pure blood and magic. "Maybe Hogwarts was too guarded by Dumbledore for me to risk retrieving it."

The spectral body of the boy flickered a bit and he looked around. "My power to remain in this form is fading, I need you to find a way for me to enter Hogwarts. Get me to a student and I will use them to retrieve the weapon, and I will use their magic in my mission. Keep this diary a secret from everyone, even my other followers."

The light of the Dark Lord's body glowed and got sucked back into the crack in the binding, causing it to snap shut.

December 26th, 1992 - Leeds

Hermione Granger, along with her parents Lysander and Celia Granger, stood across the street from a strange-looking shop. From all outward appearances, it was a very antique toy store. There was an old rocking horse in one window and an oversized jack-in-the-box in the other. The latter had its crank wind automatically, and the clown popped out, swung back and forth, then retreated into the box. To a muggle looking at the display, it would appear to be electric, to a witch like Hermione, she saw the magic of the animation charm.

The sign over the dusty old shop said: Living Memories

After staring for a few minutes and discarding their apprehension, the Granger family crossed the street and walked through the front door, causing a small bell above it to ring. Inside the entrance, there were quite a few shelves of old wooden toys from decades if not centuries before. Celia checked the price on a small wooden train set as they walked and immediately put it back down, her eyes wide.

Arriving at the back of the shop, Lysander rang a desk bell by the register, and a woman, dressed like she was still living in 1920 came out of the backroom. She gave them a long look over the way they were dressed and nodded to herself. Lysander had insisted on wearing some of their best outfits for this day, as they would probably 'need to impress some stuffy old wizards like Lord Black or the Board of Governors.'

"How may I help you today? Are you looking for a special present for a child? Or are you collectors of rare and unusual toys?" she asked pleasantly.

"We are here for a replacement prosthetic for my daughter," Lysander responded firmly.

The pleasant demeanor of the woman vanished and she scowled at them, "We don't serve muggles."

Lysander was about to yell at her, but his wife pulled out the gold-trimmed parchment they had been given, and said, "We will be sure to pass along your dismissal to Lord Black."

She just placed the parchment on the counter and took the hands of Lysander and Hermione and started walking towards the exit.

When she had her hand on the door, the woman called out, in a panicked voice, "Wait!" They turned back around to see her holding up the parchment as she had just been reading it. "Come back, please. My most sincere apologies."

On the way back, Celia very purposefully elbowed the toy train she had been looking at before and it fell off the shelf, pieces breaking off when it hit the floor. Scowling back at the woman, "My apologies about the train. I do hope it can be repaired."

Hermione was looking at her mother with a bit of awe for her defiance against the bigoted witch's attitude. Lysander was just smiling with pride.

"Of course, it's just a simple matter, please come into the back and we can get you started."

Not even bothering to fix the fallen toy, she waved a wand at the entrance, causing the door to lock, and the 'Open' sign to flip over. The Grangers followed her into the back behind the register. As they passed through the doorway, the room completely changed from a dusty toy store to an opulent showroom, cleaner than the Hogwarts infirmary. The woman crossed the room to where two other women were standing at the back while the Grangers stared at everything around them.

The room had a white marble floor with sparkles of gold dust in it. In the center of the room were four mannequins with multiple prosthetic pieces. Each one seemed to be designed for a different purpose and was animated to show that. The first one had an arm that split itself in two and seemed to perform different tasks with each, one wrote on a parchment hovering in the air, while the other played a small piano next to it. It also had a leg that glowed blue along where its veins should be but didn't seem to hold another obvious purpose. The second had two prosthetic arms, one with a sword that extended from it and the other seemed to form a shield from the forearm. It switched between various battle stances before recovering to a normal pose. The third must have been for some kind of manual labor as the arm was much too thick for a normal arm and had only three fingers. It also required a large harness that wrapped around the whole body to support it. It also had a large prosthetic foot that had claws on it that scratched at the marble floor. The last one looked the most normal of the lot as it changed between looking metal and looking almost flesh for brief moments. Her feet were wearing tall boots with sharp heels but if you looked close enough, you could see the boots were her legs and feet. Around the outsides of the room, there were display cases with different styles of arms and legs, as well as eyes, ears, and oddly enough - tails.

As they were admiring the display cases, the three women approached them. They looked similar enough to be sisters, and the middle child was the one they had spoken to out front. The eldest spoke to them.

"Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Granger to Living Memories. Welcome to you as well Miss Granger, of the Velasco line."

Celia nudged her daughter to speak up. "Thank you?" Hermione responded meekly. "Even after Hogwarts, this is a bit new to us."

"My sisters and I will help you in any way we can. My name is Mabel Hart, my sisters are Leonna and Donna."

Leonna, who they had spoken to before, said, "You mentioned you were here for a replacement, please show us what you have now."

With minor hesitation, Hermione removed her winter gloves, and the long coat she was wearing. The moment she took it off, she recognized the look of repulsion in the eyes of the three sisters. Though as she was about to cover her arm again, she saw they were looking directly at the arm, not at her deformity. Mabel approached quickly and took the hand of the prosthetic in hers, then looked closely at all of the parts.

"This is from 'Sticks and Stones?'" she asked. Getting a nod from the Grangers, she continued. "Such atrocious workmanship. This would have broken down in another three years, tops. Sticks and Stones only does work for people that need something immediate and temporary, or for those that cannot afford anything else. How on earth did someone under the patronage of Lord Black end up there?"

"We weren't under his patronage at the time," Lysander said sternly with a touch of anger. He looked at Leonna, "We were treated like 'just muggles,' by the Hogwarts Board of Governors, who recommended us." Leonna had the good sense to blush in embarrassment.

"Well that doesn't matter now," Mabel said firmly. "Donna can start showing Miss Granger some samples while we go over your records from the first prosthetic implantation."

The younger sister approached Hermione, "Please come with me," she instructed her towards one of the display cases. Her father gave her a nod and followed the other two women with his wife towards a table in the back where they started to go through papers from Celia's purse.

"Can I call you Hermione?" Donna asked, and she nodded silently. "May I take a look at your arm?" Hermione held out her arm as the girl studied it. "This rune cluster isn't part of the original design, did you do it?"

"No, Brandt did it," she smiled at the memory. "He is the Black Steward."

"Something like this should have been incorporated into the original design," she informed Hermione.

Reaching up to the display case above them, Donna reached straight through the glass and pulled out a steel arm with glowing green stones at all the joints and knuckles. Placing it on the table in front of them, she pulled a panel off the forearm and turned it over to show hundreds of tiny rune clusters. Then she waved her wand over Hermione's arm which lit up with maybe two dozen rune clusters that had been hidden before. The craftsmanship of each piece in the case had looked like works of art to Hermione, but the way each piece worked with magic was something she hadn't been shown, not on her current arm, and not on the ones in the shop. The difference between the two was like night and day.

After staring at her own prosthetic for what seemed like forever, the runes faded back into the arm, and she looked up at Donna, "What a piece of trash!" she exclaimed in a voice that drew the attention of the others across the room. "My friends and I are working on a project right now that is more intricate and complicated than this!"

That drew Donna's interest, "You are? What is it?"

"It's a…" she stopped herself. "It's something that I probably shouldn't be talking about. Though from what the others say, it might make us famous."

"So… are you a Ravenclaw?"

"I am now, I transferred when the resorting happened with Scamander house. Were you a Ravenclaw too?"

"No, I went to North Yorkshire," Donna replied.

"There are other schools in England?" Hermione asked, astonished that she hadn't heard of them.

"Of course there are. I'm sure you've heard of Hogwarts as 'The Premier Magical School in the United Kingdom,' right?" Hermione nodded. "Well that wouldn't be much of a title if there weren't any other schools, don't you think?"

Hermione thought for a moment and responded with a smile, "I guess it would be like being the valedictorian of home school."

Donna smirked, "Exactly, I'm not surprised you don't know about them though. All the muggleborns go to Hogwarts as a way to try to integrate you into society quickly. The other schools are mostly day schools and we don't have to deal with all the politicians' kids and the general drama that comes with them. A few more specialized subjects too, depending on where you go."

"Day schools? That's not fair," she complained, glancing at her parents, "I could have gotten to see my parents at home every night."

"And miss out on the Hogwarts experience?" Donna questioned.

Hermione raised her third-rate prosthetic arm, wiggled the fingers, and said, "Hogwarts experience - crushed by a troll. Does that happen much in North Yorkshire?"

Donna nodded with a frown, "No, I guess it doesn't. Well, let's look around for a design you like."

Hermione didn't like any of the bulky arms or the ones that didn't look human. She would probably need to wear it out to various muggle functions in the future, so she immediately asked to only have options like the mannequin that could change to look like flesh. Those models would allow the arm to look more like a real arm for up to one hour at a time before they needed to change back for at least ten minutes to recharge.

Her parents rejoined her and started to offer their input. Her father wanted her to get one of the models with a sword in it, both for the fantasy of it and also for self-defense. She was a bit too apprehensive to try to wield a sword and to hold it in her offhand. So they settled on a round shield that would grow from her forearm if she flexed the fingers in a specific way. The arm would be a bit stronger than normal, but she wouldn't be lifting a car, just able to crush small rocks. If the rest of her body couldn't support something she could lift with the arm, then there would be no point in having extra strength like that.

When Hermione told Donna about her studies in runecrafting, she insisted on having an inscription tool placed into the index and pinky finger of the prosthetic hand. When Hermione asked why the pinky too, Donna picked up a sample arm and twisted off the pinky there, which extended and turned into another inscription tool to use with her right hand too.

They searched for the rest of the afternoon and evening and found a few more random features, along with a style and color scheme to use. The entire time, Donna was showing Hermione bits of enchantment and runic work while Leonna and Mabel seemed to be quizzing Lysander and Celia on their medical knowledge, as the two older sisters had enough magical healing knowledge to be creating and installing magical arms.

When nighttime arrived, they had found exactly what they wanted. Hermione would need to be put into an enchanted sleep for the next two days, and her old arm would be removed for the new one to be implanted. Lysander and Celia insisted on being in the room the entire time, so after Mabel stared down Leonna, who had objected; the two older sisters conjured a very luxurious bed and a privacy curtain for the Grangers to sleep behind and got everything set up for the procedure.

As Hermione lay down on the surgical table, she took a small figurine of a mouse with a sword and shield and placed it on the table next to her. After drinking the sleeping potion to keep her knocked out, she whispered to the mouse, "Keep me safe, Martin"

The small mouse in a green tunic assumed a defensive posture with his eyes peeking over the top of the shield with a large M on it and pointed his sword forward to attack anyone foolhardy enough to challenge him. As Hermione stared at her protector, her eyelids drooped low, and she fell into a magical slumber.

December 29th, 1992 - Gates of Malfoy Manor

Lucius Malfoy stood inside the gates, along with Spencer and Vincent Crabbe.

In the past few days, Lucius had gone with Yaxley to retrieve his wand from the Ministry, bought an elderly house elf to assist around the house, and developed a plan for delivering the diary to Hogwarts.

Both fathers had fervently objected to having their sons used to return the Dark Lord to power. The transfer had nearly killed Spencer, who was an adult, so having a child do it would almost definitely kill them. Though after hearing Vincent complain regularly about a book-obsessed muggleborn girl that had caused him to get a month's exclusion from school, both fathers knew exactly who to have their children pass the cursed book to. They would tell their boys only to pass the book to her and nothing else.

Today was the day that Draco would be returned to Malfoy Manor.

There was a twisting in the air at 10 a.m. sharp as Augustus Stevens and Gregory Goyle Sr. appeared in front of the gates with a snap. Both of them had their wands drawn and pointed toward the men behind the gates. After a few moments of staring at Lucius Malfoy with short hair, Gregory tapped on his bracer with the Black family crest, and a few seconds later there was another twist in the air, bringing Arcturus, Brandt, and Narcissa holding onto Draco with a loud series of cracking sounds.

The group stared at Lucius's new appearance in shock. Narcissa finally broke the silence, "Well, it looks like for the first time in two decades, I have longer hair than you do."

No one laughed.

"I would have you return my son to me now," Lucius said to Arcturus.

Narcissa leaned down to Draco and told him loud enough that Lucius could also hear, "I will be traveling until at least the summer. Dobby will be with me. Harry Potter has given us both something to think about so that Lyra can be part of our lives. I am going to try to fulfill that task. I highly suggest you find a way to do so as well. Do not fall too far into your father's delusions, it would break my heart to lose another child."

Draco stared at her in shock but nodded back as she hugged him. Then he stood up straight and walked towards the gates which opened on their own. He walked up to his father who he briefly embraced as well, then shook his friend Vincent's hand as the group walked up the hill towards the house.

Lucius had barely started to move before Arcturus spoke up, "I will be keeping an eye on you. Everything you do is being monitored by me. If you take a single step out of line, I will kill you. You will not go back to Azkaban, there will be no honor duel, and I will mount your head on the wall along with the retired house elves."

Draco turned around at that statement and looked horrified. Lucius, on the other hand, barely turned his head enough to look at Arcturus out of the corner of his eye. He just took Draco by the shoulder and led him up to the house, with the Crabbes trailing along after.

January 1st, 1993 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Students were not returning to school for another two days, but that didn't mean nothing was going on. Today, in particular, a large contingent of people were arriving, including the Hogwarts Board of Governors, the Ministry Departments of Magical Games and Sports, International Magical Cooperation, and Minister Cornelius Fudge along with his entourage. Not to mention a large contingent of members of Law Enforcement to provide security.

Dumbledore had cordoned off The Great Hall from all the students remaining at the castle over the break and a large number of refreshments had been set out. The long tables had been removed and replaced with many large round tables as there had been for his birthday party.

He assumed he knew the purpose of the meeting called by Ludo Bagman and the Minister. He had been dropping enough hints to them over the last two years and smiled at his plan coming to fruition. The revival of the TriWizard tournament had been a dream of his since he had studied the history of it back as a student at Hogwarts. He was confused a bit by the number of people that had been invited to the announcement though, surely the tournament didn't need this level of government involvement, nor did it need more than two ambassadors from the DIMC instead of over a dozen.

Dumbledore looked around the room, recognizing many members of the assembled guests that he hadn't seen in a while, and gave a small nod to Arcturus Black, who had quietly replaced Lucius Malfoy's position on the Board of Governors at the beginning of the year. Arcturus barely returned the nod, as he was in a conversation with Amos Diggory at the moment.

While everyone was getting settled, and meeting with old colleagues, two security trolls lumbered into the room, carrying large crates and being directed by their handlers. They set the crates down near the back of the room and opened them up to reveal enormous film projectors, the kind that had been used over thirty years ago. The trolls then carefully opened up large projection screens against the back wall of the hall to the sides of the door.

Dumbledore stared at all of it as the trolls were led back out of the room. Then he just shrugged, if anyone could appreciate good pageantry, it was him. If Ludo wanted to put on a show, he would just sit back and enjoy it. The trolls returned with a large podium and lectern which they set up just inside the door between the two screens. The assembled guests had been assuming someone would be speaking from the front podium near the staff table, so they all turned to face the entrance.

Once everyone was settled, Ludo, along with Rolanda Hooch and a few other members of his department approached the podium they had set up. The rest sat in chairs as Ludo approached the lectern.

With a goofy grin on his face, he started, "Well, I bet you're wondering why I gathered you all here today." There were one or two chuckles from the assembled guests before he continued, "Well you can thank Albus Dumbledore for starting me on the course that has led us here today, but by the end of it I hope you will credit me and my department for what we are going to be undertaking, assuming we get the support of the Minister, of course."

He shared a nod with the portly man in a lime-green bowler hat before starting again, "For the last year, maybe two, Dumbledore has been dropping hints about his twenty-fifth anniversary of leading Hogwarts as Headmaster, which is coming up in another year and a half. While I may have been slow on the uptake, I eventually figured out that he was interested in reviving the TriWizard Tournament."

A scattering of shock and muttering broke out over the entire room. Some of the younger members looked confused about what the event was, as the older ones were filling them in.

Ludo interrupted them by explaining, "For those of you unaware, the last tournament took place during the school year, exactly 200 hundred years ago. The reason why it stopped at that time was due to the increasingly high death toll among the participants over the years and the 1792 tournament had a cockatrice get loose which injured all three heads of the schools and caused many additional casualties among the audience."

Many people in the audience called out that Ludo was crazy for wanting to revive such an event, but he just held up his hands for silence and waited for them to calm down.

Once they were quiet, he continued, "Now, I began to research ideas for new events, ones that would be less deadly to the participants and the observers. I found many grand ideas, but one part of my research shocked me to my core. I discovered the existence of the Muggle Olympic Games."

Again there was muttering that went on between the assembled guests, though this time, it seemed like the younger members were trying to explain something to the older ones. Dumbledore's eyebrows were starting to rise dramatically, both at the man's claims that he came across his idea in his own research and from what he might be attempting now.

"For nearly one hundred years," he began again, "the muggles have been putting on a worldwide tournament, gathering together countries from all over the globe every four years. The last competition was this past summer and involved 169 countries. Nearly ten thousand athletes competed and approximately three million people attended the tournament as observers."

"Impossible!" one man called out from the assembled group. His declaration was echoed by many others.

Ludo pulled out his wand and fired a cannon blast into the air.

"Calm down!" he called out. "I too didn't believe it at first, but then I saw it with my own eyes." He gestured to two of his people who waved their wands towards the large projectors while at the same time, the windows around them darkened.

The projectors came to life, having been modified to work with magic rather than electricity, and displayed clips of enormous stadiums, filled to the brim with muggles. Each screen showed something different; the one on the right seemed to be showing displays of the number of muggles all crammed together in various places, along with the vast amount of merchandising and money changing hands between them for various reasons; while the screen on the left showed an ever-changing reel of different sports, some on snow, some on water, some were team sports, and others were elegant displays of acrobatics. The reels continued to display these silent images for nearly thirty minutes before they stopped and the light from the windows returned to the room.

There was a scattering of whispers, but most people were just silent in shock.

"I know what you all are thinking," Ludo told them in a somber voice. "If the muggles can do this, who are we? With all our magic, we stopped our greatest tournament between just three schools, between only three competitors, two hundred years ago. This is hardly impressive in comparison to such a momentous feat of organization and communication between hundreds of nations." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. Dumbledore smirked at what Miss Granger's challenge to Ludo had inspired.

After waiting a little longer, he began again, "Now here we reach a problem. If we were to run a tournament as the muggles ran, we might just win everything. By inviting all the witches and wizards from around the world, we could win any event that was set up just by having Albus Dumbledore compete for England."

Albus blushed a bit at Bagman's praise and the attention of everyone at that moment.

"There is too great a difference in power between all of the adults in the wizarding world… but not as much in the children…" he waited a bit more for everyone in the room to understand what he was talking about. "Yes, you all understand what I am proposing. Why should we have a TRI-Wizard tournament when we could bring students from across the world to Hogwarts and put on a tournament for the ages."

He watched as faces lit up across the room with the possibilities of holding such an event, here in Britain and at Hogwarts in particular. Money, fame, international business, and much much more. Everyone would want a hand in this pie.

"I can see that you are all interested, but there is much to be done. We will need funds to work with, from both a ministry budget and private investors in the project. The ambassadors assembled here from the DIMC will need to reach out to their counterparts around the world to see if there is interest among them to attend and compete in such a tournament. Since this is the first time we have attempted such an event, students will need time to train. That means that all the schools involved will need to be committed before the start of the next school year. My department will be establishing committees to strategize ideas for events, as well as figure out what kind of infrastructure will need to be built to support this undertaking. The amount of work that will need to be put into this will be immense, but I know we can do it."

He stared out among the assembled guests and finished by saying, "I know we can do it because this has already been done by muggles. We are wizards, anything they can do, we can do better, grander, and with magic!"

There was a roar of applause from everyone around the room and Ludo stepped down from the podium as the members of his department started going out into the crowd to answer questions. Ludo was busy shaking hands and getting complimented on his initiative while taking contact cards from many people who were interested in providing ideas or financial support.

Dumbledore observed that each member of Ludo's department was seeking out specific people to talk to and already organizing small groups and committees. He picked up a glass of lemonade, made fresh from the abundant lemons of the Scamander common room, and made his way over to Ludo. As soon as he was done with his current conversation, he reached into the group and grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him over to the side of the room, wandlessly casting a privacy charm around them.

"Ludo, my boy, this is quite an ambitious project you're undertaking. I might have been hinting at the tournament, but this is on a whole other level."

He smiled back, "Not to worry, you can already see the kind of response we are getting. When the other schools hear about this, they'll be just as quick to jump on board, and avoid being left behind."

Dumbledore looked into Ludo's eyes and saw a little twinkle of gold in the corner, "Ah, now I see it. You normally weren't this eloquent with your words before, seems like you had a bit of help from a friend. I want you to remember who has helped you out in the past, as I know you didn't come across the Olympics in any research you were doing. I suggest that you find a way to properly acknowledge or compensate the person who gave you the idea."

Ludo was about to respond, but the Headmaster interrupted him, with a dark tone, the air vibrating around the two of them, "I suggest you ask your friend, Felix, what would be the best course of action right now."

Ludo looked all around him before back at the powerful wizard in front of him, then said, "I will find a way."

"Good to hear!" Albus said loudly as the air stopped vibrating and he canceled the privacy spell. "I believe you'll have excellent luck in this endeavor. Consider Hogwarts as a choice for the meetings of your committees when you start figuring out more of the details for this tournament of the ages."

With the public validation of Albus Dumbledore ringing in the ears of the surrounding guests, Ludo returned to shaking hands and exchanging information with everyone in the room.

Albus crossed the room to meet with members of the Board of Governors. Along the way, he passed by Gilderoy Lockhart, who was speaking loudly with members of the ministry about what a shame it was that he was no longer a student and couldn't participate in the upcoming tournament.

Across the room, Severus put up his own personal privacy charm around him and Minerva, and grumbled, "You know this will attract international attention, it may even draw in our friend from last year."

"We've improved security, he won't be arriving on the back of anyone's head this time," Minerva responded. "However, Albus would say that a magician never pulls the same trick twice."

"He is not a magician, he does not pull rabbits out of a hat, he is the Dark Lord," Severus cautioned.

"We will be cautious," Minerva tried to reassure him. Then she sighed, "Though, I am afraid that Albus will be less so, considering that Harry is now at Hogwarts."

"I'm surprised he hasn't made more overt attempts at getting close to Harry. Arcturus is doing a surprisingly good job with Lyra and Harry, as well. I thought for sure he would be attempting to indoctrinate them with all the pureblood nonsense to create smarter versions of Draco."

"That's quite a depressing thing to say about your own godchild, Severus," Minerva commented with a frown.

"It is the truth, and it's not like I am also trying to turn Draco into a smarter version of himself. Though, with the release of his father from Azkaban, what little progress I've made over the last few months will now go up in smoke."

"Well, at least Lucius is no longer on the board," Minerva let herself smile a bit.

"That leaves me to deal with many of the governors that he is usually associated with, as I am now their conduit to him. Which is where I should be now." Severus stood up and broke the privacy charm as he strolled out into the crowd, a gust of wind blew his cape as he walked.