Chapter XI

Despite the fact it was several hours before midnight, the London street was nearly deserted. Grimmauld Place had never been the best of neighborhoods, after all, and the only people that wandered the streets after dark were not the sort to look twice at a huddled, shivering woman in torn and unusual clothes.

Susan paused, unsure of approaching Number 12. The wards were at a strength she'd never seen before, and although she'd been keyed into them when she lived here, it was painfully obvious that was no longer the case. 'What happened?'

She sent several announcing charms at the wards, but there was no response, not even from the unfriendly Black elf. Susan recalled what her aunt had told her, months back - that Sirius was under a great deal of pressure from the Americans to provide information on Harry. He must have fled Grimmauld Place and gone into hiding! That meant that taking refuge with him wasn't an option. She'd have to go somewhere else, find another place that she could hide out.

Susan spun in place, appearing outside of Longbottom Manor. There was, again, no response to her magical calls; Neville, of course, would be at Hogwarts, but Augusta must be out. She had one more place she could try, one more chance. She spun in place once more.

"Argh!" The next apparition saw her bouncing off of wards, slamming heavily onto the ground. Susan rolled back and forth in agony, cradling her belly. Attempting to apparate into a warded area sent the intruder ricocheting off the magical protections with high velocity.

Susan pulled herself to her feet on shaky legs, trying to gather her bearings and make sense of this situation. The gates of Abbott Estates were locked, closed tight. There was no response, once again, to her numerous announcing charms, and the manor just visible in the distance was darkened without any visible sign of any inhabitants. 'Just what went on in the last three months?'

She didn't know where to go, who to turn to, whom she could trust. On one side there was the American occupation, which had control over the Ministry and was almost certainly present in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade; on the other was the apparently immortal Dark Lord that had resurrected and was operating behind the scenes, engaging in some sort of hidden war with the foreigners.

Susan couldn't risk trying to withdraw funds from Gringotts, and she had no muggle currency. Frustration mingled with her pain, and Susan's legs gave out, dropping to her hands and knees, the stress of the night finally bleeding over.

From facing every woman's worst nightmare in the form of Octavius Nott to the unexpected discovery that her captor was the worst Dark Lord in British history, to having nowhere and no one to turn to- it, it was just too much.

Apparating back to London, Susan pulled her ruined robes tighter around herself, settling onto a bench within a strange clear enclosure. There was a streetlight overhead, offering some security, and the box sheltered her from the chilly late October wind.

She just needed to rest, just for a few moments, to clear her head and come up with a plan. Her opportunity had finally come and she'd made the most of it, freeing herself from Riddle's clutches and at last taking control of her own destiny.

The pain from bouncing off the wards hadn't diminished, and Susan took shallow breaths as she curled up on the bench. That seemed to help. She could do this, she'd come up with something. After all, she thought to herself, with her vision darkening, she'd been in much worse spots than this. She was-

Nearly a full hour would pass before the driver of the late-night bus would discover the unconscious, pregnant young woman bearing signs of assault, bleeding heavily from between her legs.


"Murphy, what's going on?"

For once, the refugee settlement was full of activity, aurors moving to and fro, along with flashes of portkeys activating. "Jacobs, you're early! Your shift doesn't start for another twenty minutes."

Wally looked around, trying to make sense of the chaos around him. "You didn't answer my question. What are all these aurors here for? The orders for guard duty are two men per shift."

"You know what happened here a few weeks back."

Everyone knew about the attack. "Of course. So, is this an upgrade of security, or something?"

"'Or something'," Murphy chuckled. "You remember that talk we had, about how unfair it is to keep the Nomaj here like this?"

"Sure." If anything, the tension at the camp had only increased since the abortive attack by the rebels. The Nomaj were even more insistent that they be allowed out, and the aurors were even less tolerant of their complaints.

"Well, me and some of the boys decided that keeping the Nomaj here was just begging for more attacks. You know how the British are with Nomaj - nothing they love more than terrorizing them. So we figured we'd remove this settlement as a target of opportunity."

"I don't understand, we're moving them somewhere else?"

"You could say that," Murphy replied in obvious amusement. "You were actually sort of the inspiration for this."

"What are you talking about? What is 'this'?" Wally asked urgently.

"It's like you said - our way is more humane. We're sparing them the torture of watching their children slip away from them. It's for the best, you'll-"

He cut Murphy off, pushing past him and hurrying through the gates. Now that he knew what was going on, he couldn't un-see the signs all around him. Aurors sitting Nomaj families down, separating the children too young for Hogwarts and taking them away. Privacy screens, the sort used in hospitals, set up to obstruct the view of the families still waiting.

The 7th Auror's Brigade was far from elite. They didn't have the investigative skills that the Civil Enforcement division did, and they were leagues away from approaching the battle-hardened, combat-ready abilities that the 2nd Guards boasted. No, the 7th was more of the equivalent of a training unit, used almost exclusively for ensuring that every adult American wizard and witch had extensive knowledge of one thing - the Memory Charm.

"Please, we don't want to go!"

"Quiet, Nomaj, you've been complaining for weeks! Just sit down here."

The man and woman held each other, frightened and worried. "Are- are we being taken to see our daughter?"

"Of course, just calm down, it will make all of this much easier. That's it, right this way," the auror instructed, motioning them behind a privacy screen, where he could see two more of his comrades waiting. Wally tried to push forward, to follow, but the same auror that ushered them into the screened-off area held him back. "Easy there, we've already got them taken care of. If you want to help, I can assign you your own section-"

"Tell me you aren't doing what I think you're doing."

The auror threw up a quick privacy charm around them, a frown spreading across her features. "We're merely closing a hole in our security. No more of our people are going to die defending Nomaj. Besides, it's safer for them this way, too. They belong with their own kind."

"Who authorized this? You're violating our orders!"

She threw him a look dripping with scorn. "The Commander authorized it if we found enough volunteers to carry out the obliviations. As you can see," she gestured around them, "there was no shortage."

"How could you-"

"What is your name, auror?"

"Wallace Jacobs."

She glanced at his insignia. "You're in your service year?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" he ground out, through clenched teeth.

"More than you'd think. This is standard procedure, this is what we do back home. It's entirely humane, we don't harm them, and each of them will be released back into their natural habitat."

"You're talking about them like they're animals!" he shouted. "And this is nothing like we do in the MACUSA! What about the children - the only parents they've had their whole lives suddenly won't even recognize them! This is… it's monstrous!"

She stepped closer, eyes hardened with anger. "Get out of here. You're relieved of your duties, and don't think I won't be reporting this to your superiors."

A flash of light over her shoulder lit the curtains, and one of the aurors opened the privacy screen, revealing that the two Nomaj that had entered had vanished. "We're ready for the next ones, what's the hold-up?"


"Mother, please, you have to eat something!"

Delilah murmured a nonsensical reply, still staring vacantly out the window. The soft clatter of rain against the glass pane seemed to calm her, but apparently not enough to break through the catatonic grief she'd endured since the day that his father's body had come through the Floo.

"Benny made us a nice dinner, please, let's sit down and eat together. What do you say?" Perhaps 'nice' was a bit of an overstatement; compared to the typical cuisine that a family with the means that the Abbotts normally had, it was in fact a rather austere selection. But something is always better than nothing, and he couldn't sit and watch his mother waste away.

She muttered something else, but from the noncommittal tone of her words, he knew he'd failed once more. Alfred held back a sigh, expanding the chair that she sat on to allow him room to squeeze next to her. He cradled his mother in his arms, thinking through the last month since they'd gone into hiding.

Even before his father's death, the bizarre magic that the Ministry employed in 'securing the nation's borders' had all but ruined Abbott Estates. Although their business owned or was tied to several areas of domestic production, a majority of the ingredients that they supplied to the nation's apothecaries were imported from foreign sources. With all international trade and travel made impossible, they'd had to suspend most of their contracted services.

The results of that weren't felt immediately. Magical Britain was, for all of their internal upheaval over the last half-century, still a center of immense wealth within the Wizarding World, and there was quite a bit of existing stock remaining in the country even after being walled-off from the rest of the world. But like in any crisis, as supplies dwindled, shopkeepers began to raise their prices and hyper-inflation hit hard, to the point that even basic potions - Calming Draughts, Dreamless Sleep, Pain-Relief Potions - now cost dozens of Galleons, when before they could be procured for a handful of Sickles.

There were several riots, and not even St. Mungo's was spared from the disturbances that flared throughout the country. Pippin, of J. Pippin's Potions in Hogsmeade, had been killed during a break-in to his shop; since then, aurors guarded any place with a stock of potions the way that goblins did Gringotts.

It wasn't just apothecaries. The cost of food had increased considerably, and although many wizards and witches raised chickens and goats to supplement their supplies, the lack of any imported foodstuffs had caused considerable stress and worry on the population, most especially in Knockturn Alley, where the poorest magicals lived in cramped tenement housing, entirely dependent on what they could purchase.

The entire country was unraveling, groaning under each additional stress the occupation placed upon it. The occupiers no longer patrolled in pairs, as they had before; any pretense at being a police force had fallen to away, and now they moved through Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade in large detachments, in numbers greater than twenty to do their patrols.

Alfred entertained thoughts of joining the resistance; its existence was of course an open secret, known to almost everyone, but such was the hatred of the American and French occupation that almost no one opposed it. In the end, though, he was a young man who'd lost his sister and father, and feared his mother was slipping away before his very eyes.

So he'd abandoned the family manor, moving with his mother and their elves to a hidden cottage in Wales, known only to those with Abbott blood, and waited and hoped for her to improve. Squeezing his mother tighter in his arms, Alfred hoped that by the time she got better, there would still be a Britain to return to.


"Looks like she's coming to. How are you feeling, miss?"

Susan blearily opened her eyes, seeing a man and woman dressed in blue clothing, and a third man in muggle clothes, all three of them wearing what looked like paper masks over their mouths and noses. "Wha- who are you? Where am I?"

The man to her left, the one in blue, answered. "You're in University College Hospital. A bus driver found you on a bench just outside Regent's Park; can you tell us how you got there?"

"I- I was- it hurt so bad, and I felt really cold. I didn't know where I could go. I was afraid-"

The woman reached out, grasping one of Susan's hands that she only now realized had needles and tubes attached to. "You were in shock when he called for help. Pregnancy trauma is extremely dangerous, both for the mother and baby."

She struggled against the fuzzy feeling in her mind; it felt like every thought was traveling through molasses. "My- my baby? What happened?"

"It's okay, dear, don't panic. The trauma you suffered caused you to enter labor prematurely, but your baby is fine. He's a little undersized, but healthy. You did a great job."

"He?" she repeated, her voice faint. "I have a son?"

The woman's smile showed despite the mask. "That's right. A beautiful baby boy."

"I want to see him- please, where is he?"

The man who spoke first held out a hand as though to soothe her. "He's doing well, Miss, I daresay better than you are. Let's make sure his mum's alright first, okay?" Susan gave a reluctant nod, noting for the first time the various muggle machines and equipment, along with a steady beeping, that filled the room. "Now, when you were brought here for treatment, your injuries showed signs of severe blunt force trauma. Did someone do this to you?"

She didn't know what to say, how to answer. Susan was groggy, weak, and felt like she'd been potioned to the gills. "I- I was, uh, attacked. A man he tried to, to…"

The woman squeezed her hand. "Did he leave you on that bench?"

"No, someone interfered. They fought, and I ran away. I hurt, so I laid down there. I thought it would be safer, with the box and the bright light…"

"Box?" the third man, who'd remained silent, muttered quietly. "What box?"

The first man looked at a clipboard, flipping through several pages. "Maybe she means the bus stop? Some of them are clear plastic enclosures. Dr. Rashid, can you run through a quick concussion protocol? It's possible there is some cognitive impairment."

The woman shined a light in Susan's eyes, tested her reflexes, and asked her questions about what year it was, a 'prime' Minister, and some sort of sport standings. Susan had no clue how to begin answering most of them.

"Where are you from, dear? Did you move to England recently?" The woman looked at the other two. "I was here when they brought her in. She was wearing very unusual clothing-"

The man in muggle clothes interrupted before she could reply. "Come on, she's got no accent, she speaks perfect English. Where else could she be from?"

"It's possible that there's a brain injury we overlooked. I'm going to order some more tests-"

"Where are my things?" Susan realized, after the comment about her clothes, that she was in some thin gown, without the wand she'd stolen. She couldn't even feel the comforting weight of the Resurrection Stone around her neck. "I want to see my son, and I want my things!"

"Easy there, Miss, you're safe here, no one's going to hurt you. This is Sergeant Taylor, with the Metropolitan Police. He's here to make sure whoever did this to you is caught."

The man in muggle clothes nodded to her, and she got the feeling he'd tip his hat if he were wearing one. "Let's start with the basics. Can I have your name, miss?"

Susan stared at him intently. What was she supposed to do now? She needed some excuse, she obviously couldn't tell them the truth, but she knew almost nothing about muggles. How in Merlin's name was she going to talk her way out of this?

The beeping in the room sped up, and the woman exchanged concerned looks with both men. "Sergeant, maybe this isn't the best time-"

"I understand. How about this, little lady: I'll go grab myself a cup of tea and give you a chance to collect yourself. I know that experiences like these aren't easy to talk about, but I want you to know that I'm here to protect you. I'm not going to be far away, and I promise whoever did this to you won't come near you as long as I'm here. Okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled.

"Good. All we want is for you and that little boy of yours to leave here safely and in good health. That's all anyone in this hospital wants." The muggle auror gave a significant look to the woman, then left the room with the man in blue.

"You can trust him, sweetheart; Sergeant Taylor's got a lot of experience in helping women that have been hurt like you."

"Okay," Susan repeated. "I- I'd really like to see my baby. And I want my things."

"No problem, I can have him brought to you in just a little while. There is some paperwork that we'll need you to fill out first, though. Do you think you feel up to that?"

"Yes, all right."

There was that same smile with her eyes again. "That's great! Now, you're still recovering, so don't over-do it, understand? If you feel like you need to rest, just say so."

Susan nodded, and the woman passed her a clipboard with several pieces of very thin parchment, along with a small stick. "Erm, what is this?"

"It's your child's birth certificate, we'll need you to fill it out. Underneath is a receipt for your personal effects; it just shows everything that you had on you when you were brought to the hospital. You'll need to fill that out before we can return your things."

"No- well, I mean, that's good to know, but what is this?" She held up the white, blunt stick that had been attached to the clipboard.

There was a very long moment of silence, where the woman stared at Susan with a strange expression. "That's a pen, dear."


"What's the matter with her?" Sergeant Taylor asked once they were out of the room. "She doesn't seem to show the normal signs of an assault victim."

"Her injuries were unusual; the sort of blunt force trauma we see with automobile accidents, but missing a lot of the typical signs."

"Like what?" Taylor had worked with Dr. Stevens multiple times on cases like these. "That shiner she's got on her right eye seems pretty typical of abuse, in my opinion."

"That was the least of her injuries. No, her main injuries were… it was like something hit her and sent her flying, but she lacks the signs of impact excepting those of a rough landing."

"Is it possible she was thrown from a great height? Maybe pushed out a window?"

"Maybe if she were launched with a catapult. No, just very unusual injuries. It's hard to imagine she was able to escape like she said."

They both looked up as Dr. Rashid stepped out of the young woman's room, closing the door behind her. "That's a strange girl."

"Tell me about it. Who doesn't know Man U is dominating the Premier League?"

The two doctors chuckled at his joke before Dr. Rashid continued. "She's filling out the birth certificate now. Asked me to go fetch her belongings, though."

"So, she's attached to her things. What's so strange about that?"

"I had to explain to her what a pen was, and how it worked."

Okay, that was unusual. Taylor felt something tickling at the back of his mind, something that he should remember but didn't. "Can I see the form?"

Rashid handed him the paper, but the signature was little more than an illegible scrawl. "She has to print on the birth certificate, right?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to see it when she's finished. I'll wait here."

The two doctors shrugged, and about ten minutes later a nurse, bearing a large plastic zip-lock with the woman's effects entered the room. Another ten minutes went by before Dr. Stevens returned, passing him the birth certificate after he came out of her room.

"Edgar James Potter… bit old-fashioned, if you ask me."

"She told me she was naming him after his grandfathers. Seemed very proud…" Stevens trailed off as he took in Taylor's expression. "What?"

"It's nothing."

"Come on, Sergeant, we've known each other too long to try and pass that look off!"

"I can't say. She's not going to be discharged anytime soon, is she?"

"No, why?"

"I've got to make a call. There'll be some other officers watching her door from here on, understood?"

"What is it? We were planning to bring her baby in… is she- is it safe to let her see her child?"

Taylor paused before replying, comparing his encounter with the odd young woman to the briefings that every police department in the United Kingdom had received a month before. 'Maybe it's a different Susan Bones?' No, that was just wishful thinking.

"You can let her meet her son," he finally answered. Even for one of the most wanted women in the country, it felt just too cruel to not let her at least see her kid before she was taken away. Susan Bones, turning up in a hospital like this; who'd've thought it? "Excuse me, like I said, I've got to make a call."


Wally felt sick. He'd apparated back to the spot in London where he'd met Aurora, more to just not be around anyone than any other reason. He'd be in for it now, once his superiors were told of his outburst at the camp.

How could they not see this was nothing like what they did in America? And what were they planning to do with the children they took away? Not even Nomaj deserved that. It was an inexcusable cruelty.

He was sweating, despite the late October chill. It felt like he was coming apart at the seams, like everything in his world had been turned upside down. Would they follow through on their threat to extend his service year? Wally didn't think he could stand another day of this occupation, much less extra time on top of the several months he had left in his service year.

Wally knew that he was upset, that he wasn't thinking clearly. He knew those things in a rational sense but at that moment, he was hard-pressed to come up with a single reason why he should head back to the barracks and cool off. He apparated once more.

"Jacobs, back again? What's so important about these prisoners anyway?"

"I'm not here for more questioning."

The two guards at the entrance to the detention area exchanged a glance. "So… what are you doing here?"

'Why didn't I just agree with them?' "The thing is, I-" 'Think!' "Who's that behind you?"

Palming his wand inside his sleeve, Wally aimed it towards the nearest guard's legs, casting a silent Duplicatus, his charm creating a copy of the auror's white and blue robes behind him. Adding on an animation charm for the robes to stand upright, the two guards turned in shock as the shadow of the empty robes fell over them.

"Stupefy, stupefy." With two bright red flashes, both aurors dropped unconscious to the ground.

Without pausing to consider the consequences of what he'd just done, Wally took off down the corridor at a full sprint, skidding to a halt in front of the two special detainees.

"You again? What is it now?" The pink-haired woman looked much better; her teeth had regrown, and there were no signs remaining of the brutalization she'd endured months before.

"Nymphadora, there's no need for that," the older woman said instantly, eyeing Wally's disheveled appearance. "Are you all right, young man?"

"Alohamora," he cast, to no effect. Of course, why would he think a simple Unlocking Charm would be enough? Ignoring their shocked expressions, he went on to throw out several diagnostic charms, trying to decipher exactly how the cells were locked.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking us?"

"Step away from the doors, take cover if you can." The pink-haired woman's eyes went even wider at his command, and she flipped her cot over on its side, crouching behind it. "Reducto!"

The cell door groaned under the impact, but its shape didn't change and it didn't give way. "You're releasing us?"

"It's more of a prison break," he absentmindedly replied, examining the cell door. He really didn't have long to figure this out; while there were only two guards in the detention area, the DMLE had considerably more aurors, and one of them could stumble upon the two men he'd stunned at any moment.

'There!' There were narrow sections of stone that separated each individual cell which bore no enchantments. Too narrow to slip a person through, but still, a vulnerability. It took him two attempts to transfigure the stone into cloth, but once accomplished he was able to literally pull the bars out of the wall, creating a gap large enough for the young woman to slip out.

Repeating the method a second time was even easier, and soon enough the older woman had joined the two of them outside the cells. Wally could almost hear Manny's voice taunting him that of course transfiguration, and not charms, would provide the solution.

"What now?"

"Um…" 'What now, indeed?' He'd just attacked two aurors, broken two prisoners out of their cells, and there was that minor fact that they were deep in the DMLE, full of his comrades who likely wouldn't look on his actions as anything other than flat-out treason. "Now we get out of here."

"Hold on, to where? Why are you even helping us?"

"I'm Wally Jacobs. I was- I am a friend of Harry Potter's. And you are Nymphadora Tonks and, uh… Mrs. Tonks?"

The pink-haired woman's face grew red and she scowled, but her mother spoke first. "Really, Nymphadora, do you think now is the time? I'm Andromeda, but you can call me Andi."

"Okay, I'm going to Silence and Disillusion you. Stay as close to me as possible, and for the love of the gods, don't do anything rash, okay? There's a fireplace in the DMLE that I'll use to take you to the Three Broomsticks."

"Why there?" Andromeda asked.

He shrugged. "Truthfully? I don't know a lot of Floo addresses, and I doubt you want to go to the auror barracks."

Nymphadora chuckled at that, wearing the first smile he'd seen on her face, and Wally was struck by just how lovely she was when not beaten to a pulp. "We should probably get moving," Andromeda said, a knowing lilt present in her voice.

Casting the requisite charms, he hurried with them back towards the entrance, pausing momentarily as they stepped over the unconscious guards. He could still turn back the clock; a quick Memory Charm on the two of them, then returning the Tonkses to their cells would probably let him get away with it. He would face a dressing-down over what happened at the refugee settlement, but he could still end this without being a full-blown traitor.

A gentle hand on his forearm and a whispered, "Let's hurry," from Nymphadora ended his musing. No, this was the right thing, the honorable thing. He recalled Manny's words over the summer, 'Just because the other side is bad doesn't mean ours is good'. Neither of these women deserved what had happened to them.

He tried to feign his normal self-assured attitude as he walked through the DMLE, waving hello to people he recognized, nodding to those he didn't. The fireplace was in sight, they'd almost made it-

A whispered curse was his only warning, and he glanced over his shoulder to see the disillusioned Nymphadora flailing her arms as she fell, the waste-basket she'd tripped over flying forward and all of the parchment on the desktop she landed on cascading to the floor.

"What the hell-?" The auror's question was cut off by Wally's Stupefying Charm, but it was too late. At least a half-dozen Americans were well within sight of what happened, and a flurry of charms and curses shot towards them.

"Run!" Erecting the strongest shield he could, Wally's wand was in constant motion. Animated cloak racks tripped up their pursuers, layered shield charms intercepted and reflected spells, and Illusion Charms distracted his fellows. The fireplace flared green, and he felt arms grab him from behind, dragging him into the emerald flames.

"I can't believe we made it!" Nymphadora whooped, letting go of him and embracing her mother.

"Despite your best efforts, it appears that we did. Really, dear, can't you walk fifty paces without stumbling?"

The patrons of the Three Broomsticks unabashedly stared at the three of them, but Wally noticed that the only hostile looks were directed at him. "Um, you two should probably get out of here. It won't take them long to trace the Floo connection. You can apparate outside."

Their joy suddenly muted, they both quietly regarded their rescuer. "You aren't coming with us?"

"No, I'm going back."

"What?! Why? You know what they're going to do to you!"

"I know," he nodded, "But I attacked my comrades. I betrayed my country. I- I will face the consequences for my actions."

Andromeda didn't speak, just listened to him with a curious expression. Tonks, though, apparently wasn't able to hold her tongue so easily.

"Are you insane? You think they're going to go easy on you just because you're an American? What good will it do for you to willingly walk back to your own execution?"

Wally smiled at the way her hair transformed into dark red spikes in her indignation. "The 'good' has already been done, I freed you both. Don't make it all for nothing by getting caught here, go!"

"Wait, neither of us has a wand. At least come outside with us so that Nymphadora can contact her allies."

She had a point, he was leaving them to fend for themselves. "Okay," he agreed, accompanying them out the entrance of the inn and to the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. "Here."

Nymphadora's eyes welled up with tears as she looked at his wand, extended handle-first in her direction, then up at him. He tried to offer her a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "Go on, take it. I need to get back, they- they're waiting for me."

He raised the wand, signaling her to take it from him. Her fingers slowly closed around the handle, and he'd barely let go before he heard her whisper "Stupefy."


Susan jerked awake, feeling a deep ache in her body. Whatever muggle potions they'd given her must have worn off, because despite the pain she was in, her mind felt as sharp as normal. The female healer was back, pushing a strange contraption to a place next to her bed.

"What is that?"

"It's an incubator. We have Edgar in here as a precaution; he arrived a little prematurely."

Sitting up, Susan winced as she leaned forward, peering through the glass. Inside, asleep was her son. She took her first look at him: a shock of black hair on his head, tiny hands curled into fists; he was… he was perfect.

"How long does he have to stay there? I- I want to hold him."

Dr. Rashid looked over another clipboard that was attached to the incubator. "At least a few days more. He's remarkably healthy for not being full term, but like I said, it's a precaution," she said, looking at Susan with a strange expression - 'Is that pity?' - on her face.

"Oh. Okay."

"I just wanted you to have a chance to meet him," the woman continued quietly.

At that, Susan's eyes narrowed and she directed a sharp look at the woman. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I- what are you saying? Is there something wrong with him?"

"No, he's fine. I need to go," the woman said before hurrying out the door.

Susan stared after her, senses on alert. She could make out the muggle auror from before that had tried to question her, but there were three men standing with him. Two wore uniforms and carried clubs and other equipment that, although foreign, looked decidedly unfriendly.

The third man's outfit was much different than anyone's she'd seen to this point inside the hospital. It wasn't that his clothing was outlandish or unusual, but it stood out just enough that it was obvious to Susan that he did not belong. It was like… her eyes widened, just as the man turned to regard her with the barest hint of a cruel smirk playing at his lips. 'It was like when Auntie's aurors would dress 'undercover' as muggles!'

Nott's wand was in her hands in an instant. "Colloportus!" she incanted, and the door slammed shut with a squelch. She nearly collapsed from the pain as she got out of the bed, but grit her teeth and waved her wand over the machine that held Edgard, quickly lifting him out and wrapping the bedsheet around them, forming a makeshift wrap to keep him close.

She knew she'd made the right decision when a disapparition jinx fell into place around her. She could hear pounding on the door, but as of yet, there was no spellfire. 'He must not want to cast while there are muggles around' she realized, thanking Merlin for small favors.

Dressing as quickly as she was able, which was far too slow for her liking, Susan shrank the blanket and pillows from the bed, stuffing them into the pockets of her torn robes. Without the muggle potions, she was lightheaded from the pain, barely able to stand.

'What am I going to do?' she thought, blinking away her tears, trying desperately not to surrender to the terror of a strange wizard here for her and her son. Pointing her wand at the door, she stood on rubbery knees, waiting for the inevitable charge.

A shower of dust and debris washed over Susan as the wall to her right exploded and several spells sizzled past her. The wizard had come through the room next to hers! She tried to shield, but the poorly matched wand, combined with her own weakness and fatigue meant that her defense was pitiful at best.

Susan fell back onto the bed, a stunner passing inches above her face. It was hopeless; she'd tried so hard, but it was over. She could barely stand up, much less fight off a wizard that was obviously toying with her, casting only non-lethal jinxes.

"Stop," she called out, her command more of a plea. "Please stop."

The spellfire ceased momentarily, and the man came into view. His muggle attire was gone, the likely transfiguration reversed into a set of plain but expensive robes. "I'm afraid you'll have to come with me, child."

"Who are you?"

"Does it really matter?" he replied in an unusually accented voice, wand extended towards her. "Where is the infant?"

She gestured to the muggle machine that Dr. Rashid had wheeled into her room. Keeping his eyes on her, the man stepped closer, carefully approaching the incubator. Susan waited for him to look inside before she grasped the Stone around her neck, quickly spinning it three times and whispering under her breath.

He spun towards her with the tip of his wand glowing, but before any spell could be fired, all the lights in the room went out, the muggle lighting extinguishing as though someone had cast Nox, shadows lengthening and stretching. Two specters appeared out of the ether on either side of the man, and even in the darkness, Susan could make out the surprise and shock run across his features.

The silver flash of a cutting curse passed through one ghostly form, and his fist struck out against the other to no effect. Lifting her own wand, summoning all of the hatred she could at the man that threatened her son, feeling the cold fury pool in her belly, Susan spoke the incantation.

"Avada Kedavra."

Her aim was true, the green flash striking the wizard dead center, leaving her watching dispassionately as his corpse collapsed to the tile floor. A small cry came from within her robes, and Susan murmured comforting words to Edgar, turning her attention to the two figures that watched her.

"Thanks, Mum, Dad."

"Go on, darling. Flee, and keep our grandson safe. We love you."

One more turn of the Stone and her parents vanished. She had to leave; the muggles would be coming soon, and that's assuming that there weren't more wizards already in the hospital. But where could she go that was both safe and not warded?

Unbidden, Susan's thoughts returned to her time with Harry; to nights spent in his arms, to mornings awakening next to him, to dinners and laughter and joy. No one would look for her there; it might be rough, but it would be safe.

Her mind made up, she pushed herself to her feet, summoned the strange wizard's wand, and disappeared with a crack!


October 30, 1996

"Confundo."

A wave of magic washed over the interior of the automobile, the comforting feeling of Harry's magic bringing a smile to her face even before she opened her eyes. He sat up, lifting his arm from where it had wrapped around her.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked, her voice whisper-quiet, as though muted by the early morning darkness.

"About three hours," he responded. "We need to hop out, let this gentleman get home." They'd taken to Confunding muggles in order to 'hitch' rides across Europe. It was far from the most ethical solution, but Harry knew from past experience that train stations were easily surveilled by aurors. Without access to Gringotts or Dumbledore's seemingly inexhaustible sources of various muggle currencies, exploiting muggles seemed the safest option.

"Where are we?" It had not been the fastest method of travel, however. With neither of them capable of effectively performing compulsion charms, they'd relied on more brute-force methods of manipulation, which put a hard cap on how long they could spend with each driver - what with Confunding Charms not being very conducive to safe operation of muggle autos, after all.

"Belgium; we passed Ghent about a half-hour ago." One of her first demands following Dumbledore's death was to learn apparition. Harry had willingly shown her the method by which he learned with the American tribals, but they both feared detection too much to apparate beyond national boundaries, leaving them reliant on whatever muggles they could bewitch.

She followed Harry into the woods that bordered the stretch of highway they were on. The air was humid and cold, like a wet blanket draped over her. "How much further do we have to go?"

Harry opened his trunk, pulling out two sleeping bags and unrolling them side-by-side, while she threw up an overpowered Muggle-Repelling Charm. "Not very far. Maybe one more ride, and then we'll be at Calais."

"Finally!"

"Don't get too excited, we have to figure out a way to get into England from there."

Daphne slipped behind a tree, quickly changing out of her clothes, shivering as she pulled on a loose-fitting nightgown. "What do you mean? Can't we just hitch a ride like we did to get here?"

He was already inside his sleeping bag when she returned. "No, there are muggle border controls entering and exiting Britain. We'll have to sneak in somehow," he answered, pausing to yawn. "And before you suggest it, using magic to get through should be a last resort. If I were the ICW, I'd have at least a few wizards patrolling the checkpoints."

"I know you'll think of something," she stated with confidence, eyeing the sleeping bag next to his skeptically. "Um, hey; would you mind if- I mean, it's just that it's getting colder, and, and…"

"What is it?" he asked, a touch of impatience creeping into his voice. "Just say it, it was a long day."

"Could we share your sleeping bag?"

There was a long pause before he answered, and Daphne nearly gave up waiting in order to crawl into her own sleeping bag and escape the cold when he finally spoke. "Okay."

Smothering a shiver of excitement, she crawled into the bedding with him, the narrow space forcing their bodies to press tightly together. Harry was wearing a shirt and a thin pair of trousers, frustrating her desire for greater skin-on-skin contact.

Daphne had decided, in the wake of Dumbledore's death, that she was done waiting. She knew that Harry loved her, she was sure of it; he'd admitted as much with his silence to her father's assertion. Even at Hogwarts, he'd told her that he'd been attracted to her for years. With the two of them on the doorstep of returning to England, with all of the trials and challenges awaiting them, now was the time to act.

Harry had been so kind to her this last month. They held hands frequently, and she often slept on his shoulder during their impromptu automobile journeys. It felt like - to her anyway - that the more often they touched, the stronger the bond between their magic grew. She could barely keep her hands off of him - now that thought brought a blush to her face - most hours of the day, but he never commented on it, never refused her.

She threaded one hand through his hair, trailing it down his jaw to rest on the side of his neck, while at the same time she slid the other beneath his shirt, fingertips tracing a featherlight path up his chest.

"What are you-"

Their lips met before he could object. It was their second kiss, technically, but she couldn't really count the first as such, given what had happened immediately afterwards. It was rough, both of their lips were chapped, and she was sure that her breath wasn't that pleasant, so the kiss was… it was brilliant. Daphne moaned into his mouth, pressing her tongue against his lips, and that sensation, that feeling that was uniquely Harry spread over her entire body, magnified well beyond what simple touches had previously offered.

"Stop." His arms, rather than embracing her, gently pushed at her shoulders, ending the kiss and forcing her as far away from him as the confines of their sleeping arrangement allowed. "Don't, Daphne."

For a second, she could only gape at him in shock. How could he not have felt their connection that time? Why refuse her, when she was obviously the woman he needed at his side? "What's wrong?"

"I just- I can't. Not after what… I just can't."

"You don't need to feel guilty for wanting this. She's gone, Harry, you can-" Now his push was far from gentle, and they struggled for several seconds before he unceremoniously dumped her onto the cold, wet ground, emerging from the sleeping bag immediately after her.

"Don't say it! Don't you ever bring her up!"

She tried to swallow the hurt from his rejection, but her temper flared in spite of her best efforts. How could he not see that it was Daphne that had complete faith in him, and always had? She was the only one to recognize what Harry was capable of, the scale of the power that he wielded. Maybe it took a true Slytherin to see that the reason the opposition against him was so great was only because Harry represented perhaps the only wizard alive that could single-handedly change the world. He needed her, how could he not see that?!

While she'd stewed in her own thoughts, Harry had climbed into the empty sleeping bag he'd laid out for her. "Let's just forget this happened, we should get some sleep."

'No!' "We need to talk about this."

"I really don't want-"

"I'm in love with you."

It was like the entire world had stilled at her blunt pronouncement, even the sounds of the woods they were in fading away to nothing.

"Daphne…"

'This can't be happening!' she thought in horror. What was wrong with him?! Even without him being cognizant of the magical connection they shared, hadn't she been the one to face down Erra at his side? She'd saved his life, and he hers, over and over!

Daphne sought his gaze, not even noticing the dim violet light that washed over his face as their eyes met. It wasn't a conscious action on her part, it truly wasn't. One minute she was bitterly wondering what this power that Bones had over him was, to maintain her grip on him even long after her death, and the next she was inside his mind, her legilimency summoning up his experiences and feelings with the crimson-haired Hufflepuff.

Magic was one-third intent, after all, and at her most base level, Daphne Greengrass wanted answers.

It was like a slide-show, replaying his relationship with Bones. Daphne was trapped, wanting more than anything to not have to witness the love and intimacy the two shared, but unable to pull herself away from seeing and hearing everything. Her breath hitched, she felt drained, exhausted, but still, their mental connection persisted, and suddenly, with all the force of a bludgeoner to her heart, she understood.

Bones- no, Susan; Daphne would never be able to think of her as just 'Bones' again - didn't see Harry as a transformative force in the Wizarding World. She didn't have the utmost faith in his ability to emerge victorious over any foe; how could she, given the number of times that she'd seen him beaten and near-death? Susan didn't want great things for Harry, or for him to properly wield the influence that his tragic life resulted in. She only wanted him to be happy, with or without her.

Harry Potter carried himself with a certain luminescence; his power, his confidence, his unflappable determination was blinding in its intensity. Daphne had never felt so small as she did realizing that for all the conflict she and Harry had gone through, she'd forgotten that he was only sixteen years old, younger than she was, in fact. She'd wondered how he brushed off the terrible things he'd done, not realizing that he hadn't, that he was even more damaged and broken from his actions than she could have possibly conceived.

Susan was his absolution, his reprieve from his sins. Harry had been trapped in a prison of hatred, anger, and vengeance, and it was Susan that had unlocked the cage. Their conversation outside the Lodge about breaking his oath replayed and Daphne had to stifle a sob at the callousness of her own words. How could she- what had she done?

As Harry, she held Susan, watched her die for him, wandered Azkaban seeking death through his eyes, watched herself bring him back to a life he wanted no part of. As Harry, she witnessed him try to drown his pain, smother the fear and despair at seeing the bed he'd shared with Susan in Grimmauld Place, then latch onto Dumbledore's quest to flee his grief.

As Harry, she watched him cradle Susan's wand, one of the last tokens of his closest friend, his lover, in a simple desire to feel something of hers, to remember her. And as Harry, she watched the wand shatter into splinters, his inability to control his magic costing him even that memento.

It was too much. She wanted out, she couldn't watch this anymore. The legilimency connection shut, and as she blinked, returning to consciousness, her jaw dropped at their surroundings.

The wooded area they were in was devastated, emerald green energy lancing out, breaking trees in half, shattering their trunks as though they were matchsticks. Harry's magic flared around them, ravaging the section of the countryside, lighting the early morning sky with his immense power.

Through her own emotion, she looked closely at his aura, seeking out signs of the demonic influence, but Harry wasn't angry. It wasn't rage that was powering this outpouring, but grief, a desire to make her stop him from reliving everything, his will lashing out in his powerlessness to stop her.

It was at that moment Daphne realized that this magical connection they had wasn't one way. It was why his deadly aura at Mikebuda washed over her like nothing despite demolishing the village, it was the same reason why Harry's occlumency barriers always failed before her probes, why his area-effect Confundo charms in muggle autos had no influence upon her.

Harry's magic couldn't affect her.

She watched him numbly, seeing him jump to his feet, idly noting the staccato cracks of multiple apparitions around them. Daphne couldn't react, not even when the black-and-red-robed aurors shouted commands at them in a foreign language, not even when Harry's magic billowed outwards, coating the entire area around them in frost, freezing the half-dozen men solid, followed by another wave that shattered their ice-encased bodies to pieces.

She'd violated him in the worst way possible, and he, the most powerful wizard alive, had no way to stop her.

A/N: Ho-lee shit. Personally, I loved this chapter, but damn. Poor Susan. Poor Daphne. Poor... Harry.

Happy birthday to Edgar "Eddie" Potter :D Hang tough kid, you're in for a bumpy ride.

My beta Nauze can tell you that I spent so much time debating on whether or not to go through with Daphne mind-raping Harry. In the end, it was too important to the plot to skip. Don't judge her too harshly; being 16 is hard enough on its own, without having your first love murder your family, selling yourself into slavery to save your sister, and then fighting a losing battle against one of the most powerful institutions in the world. If anything, this makes me like Daphne more haha.

Quick shout out and congratulations to Salient_Causality, who will be/has posted the final chapter to HP & The International Trwizard Tournament this weekend. It's a great fic, and I heartily recommend it. Congrats Sal! Now read my fic!

Until next time,

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles