Author's Note: Thank you, livvylane and Son of Whitebeard, and especially this-is-not-lyra for reviewing! Your review was really a very valuable feedback for me! I will answer to some of your comments, which were all really interesting and helpful for me:

"Mentally transforming" Albus would be carrying things too far; it's no Dark Magic, after all. But of course, there might be some problems arising with his advanced knowledge, as well.

Regarding the issue with Albus' friends, I fully agree with you that I have somewhat neglected them so far. Funnily enough, this will change already in this chapter, your comments are in fact astonishingly predictive! The conflict with France is still comparatively fresh, though, and so far, a bigger part of the "average" magical community is has not yet been that interested in it. But that is changing (already in this Chapter, in fact!), and I promise, that at least Quentin and Scorpius will be much more in the spotlight soon. Rose has come somewhat short as well, but she isn't really a central character in this volume, although she'll have a more important part later.

Molly and Lucy haven't been so unstable before their mother's death, and at Hogwarts, problems like theirs tend to be underestimated or even go unnoticed to a certain degree. The Lucy and Molly plot will definitely play an important role in the future, they are absolutely no random throwaways.

In general, by the way, you shouldn't expect that everything will resolve itself already in this book. Although it will of course be a closed story, many foundations of the later books are laid in this volume. In any case, I promise that I won't abandon the story, the next books are already conceived!

I'm just so grateful that you took the time to write your detailed thoughts about the story! This gives me really interesting notions and will certainly help to improve the plot!

This might be the last update in 2017, please give me a little break for the holidays. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all readers! I'll be back soon, and spice things up a bit!

Harry was boiling with anger. His godson, Teddy Lupin, had been brutally tortured by the French equivalent of a Head Auror, Jean-Marie Mensong. Although he was extremely relieved, that Teddy had finally been released, right now he had half a mind to declare war on France. He was only held back by Hermione, who was, as always, a voice of reason, and his own compunction for sending Teddy to France in the first place.

Still, the Ministry was under big pressure. The last weeks, the public hadn't really paid much attention to the conflict with France, because the uproar after the murders of Audrey Weasley and Firenze and the Fiendfyre assault on the Hogwarts express had been dominating. Now, however, the Daily Prophet had gotten wind of all the details, including Teddy being tortured, and milked the story with relish. The current editor in chief, Zacharias Smith, had written an op-ed article in which he massively criticised Harry's reaction and the Ministry's handling of the situation in general. The worst was that Harry couldn't even disagree with Smith's assessment; he knew that they had made political mistakes.

Even more of a problem for the Ministry was the sudden anti-French propaganda the Prophet was making. Undoubtedly, they had success with their campaign; the claims for a harder line against France became more frequent, both inside and outside of the Ministry. No one knew concretely, what to do, though.

In France, Francois Simiol's popularity ratings were better than ever. The population was outraged about the British Ministry's behaviour, so the President Magique was massively under fire for his too "lax" demeanour. Simiol attacked his rival with relish and rhetorical mastery; the election was already as good as decided.

But of course, there were more than enough other, at least as pressing problems. The riddle of the mysterious Fiendfyre caster had not been solved, neither the murders committed by goblins. Firenze's murderer hadn't been identified; there was still the problem of a potential traitor inside Hogwarts. Molly's death seemed to have been suicide; according to Ron, all signs pointed to it, at least. Sure enough, no one knew the concrete reason, why she had killed herself; most simply assumed mental issues after her mother's death, but his instinct told Harry, that there might be more behind this. To cap it all, his own son, Albus, was seemingly involved in Molly's death, as he had duelled her shortly before she jumped.

All in all, the whole situation was quite a disaster. They were standing in front of a mountain of problems, of which not a single one had been solved so far.

Harry sighed and apparated to St Mungo's, where Teddy had to remain for a few days. His godson was lying in a bed, but he was awake. The colour of his hair had been a dirty brown, when Harry had been finally allowed to take him back to Britain; by now, it had changed to black. By experience, Harry knew that the colour of Teddy's hair was a good indicator of how he was feeling; black meant that he was physically quite healthy, but his mind was sad.

Harry placed a hand on his godson's shoulder. "How do you feel, Teddy?" he asked, already guessing the answer.

"I'm alright," murmured Teddy. "The healers say that I can go tomorrow; I received no lasting injuries."

"I'm so sorry, Teddy. It's all my fault. I sent you there, into the lion's den," said Harry.

"No," said Teddy, his hair turning red. "Harry, there has to be a traitor inside the Ministry. I didn't do anything suspicious, really; there is absolutely no way they could have found me, trust me. Besides, Mensong admitted that someone gave him a hint. You have to carry out an investigation and test everyone who knew of my mission."

"I will," said Harry, frowning.

"And, Harry," said Teddy. "To be honest, I don't think that Simiol ordered to murder Bill. Maybe we were wrong about him. He stopped Mensong from torturing me and even draining my blood -" Harry shuddered - "and told me that he didn't have anything to do with the assault on Bill and just wanted a rest from us. He seemed quite honest."

Harry thought about it. Simiol had probably stopped Mensong from torturing Teddy only out of political motives; Harry still didn't believe a word from what he was saying. In general, he trusted his godson, but in this case the pain might have clouded his judgement. He didn't say anything about it, though, but stroked Teddy's hair.

"You shouldn't worry about that now," he said. "You should rest now. I will fetch you tomorrow."

Teddy nodded, and Harry turned to leave. When he had almost reached the door, his godson whispered his name timidly. Harry turned around; Teddy's hair was now blonde.

"Harry… Am I dismissed from the Auror office?"

"Oh," said Harry. He definitely hadn't thought about that. "Of course not! On the contrary, you did well. If anything, it was my fault that you were captured. No, if you still want to, you may of course continue your Auror training."

Teddy only smiled wearily, but the colour of his hair turned into his favourite shade of turquoise. This really made Harry's day. Immensely relieved, he gave his godson a last wave and left the hospital.

O

Albus was shocked. Out of the newspaper, he had learned about Teddy being captured and tortured. He had always been very close with his father's godson and really hoped he was okay. Apparently, his father had somehow managed to free Teddy; the newspaper had a lot to say about that as well, but it was all quite complicated, and Albus didn't understand it fully.

The Daily Prophet had also featured a large article about the intrigues of Francois Simiol, Quentin's father. Simiol had explicitly distanced himself from Teddy's torture and publicly denied every connection to the attempted murder of Bill Weasley, but the Prophet had nevertheless portrayed him as a ruthless, cruel pureblood racist and murderer. The notorious Rita Skeeter had even published a much-noticed essay under the title "Simiol: Statesman or Slayer?", making it pretty clear which of those two possibilities was her favourite one.

Quentin suffered a lot under this. So far, he had maintained a low profile at Hogwarts. Now his father was on everyone's lips, and his infamous image was projected directly on Quentin. Albus remembered that there had been similar situations with Scorpius at the beginning of the term, when many classmates still thought that being a Malfoy meant being evil. This period hadn't continued very long, however, because Scorpius had been sorted into Ravenclaw, befriended Albus and also because he was always funny and nice to everyone. The situation with Quentin, however, was a lot more difficult; the resentments against Scorpius hadn't been forgotten and rekindled as a result of his friendship with Quentin. Albus' image had also got scratches after his involvement in Molly's suicide, so he being Harry Potter's son didn't protect them.

Albus, who had witnessed Quentin's difficult relationship to his father at King's Cross, felt sorry for his friend. Quentin didn't have anything against muggle-borns, on the contrary. Whenever anyone had been confronted with resentments because of his family, he had always been the one to admonish them to be unprejudiced towards everyone. Albus only hoped that the Daily Prophet wouldn't write anything about their friendship at Hogwarts; he didn't want to imagine Francois Simiol's reaction.

The Ravenclaws mainly still stood by their side, but many Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, especially those who were muggle-born or had known Molly, were openly hostile or at least avoided them. From the Slytherins, Rose and Phobos remained friends with the Ravenclaw trio, but Leon Strelka, Zacharias Myers and Aurora Dindane only seemed to wait for the ideal opportunity to catch Quentin alone. Often, they were pointing towards him and even huddled together with two Gryffindor girls, Shawna Shafiq and Cissy Carrow, discussing eagerly and looking in Quentin's direction.

Even some teachers seemed to see Quentin with different eyes. Professors Arrington, Flitwick and Pyrites were treating him as usual, but Professor Botwright wouldn't call him any more when he raised his hand, and Professor Longbottom, who called all students by their first names, suddenly addressed him as "Mr Simiol".

Clearly the worst, however, was the last lesson of the day, Defence Against the Dark Arts. For the umpteenth time, they were playing the stupid puck-pushing game. Even those students, who had been enthusiastic the first times they had done it, were slowly growing tired of it.

When they were dividing into pairs for the first "duels", Strelka approached Quentin. "The two of us, Simiol?" he asked politely, although his malicious smile gave him away. Quentin nodded, determined, and joined Strelka. Albus, who had a very bad feeling with this, turned towards Scorpius.

"I want to know what Strelka is up to," he muttered.

Scorpius only shrugged. "What can he do? Probably he just wants to win this stupid game against Quentin, but more can't happen, Smethwyck would notice."

"If you say so," murmured Albus and mentally prepared for the game. Suddenly, there was a cry of pain. Strelka clutched his forehead and moaned, as if he had to suffer agony.

"What is the meaning of this?" growled Professor Smethwyck angrily.

"Sir! Quentin here levitated the puck and dashed it at my head!" cried Strelka.

"What? Of course not! I didn't do anything - you levitated it yourself," spluttered Quentin.

"He's lying, he's flat out lying right at your face, Professor," shouted Strelka. "Ask all the others, they will confirm this!"

Smethwyck threateningly turned towards the students who had practiced next to Strelka and Quentin.

"I saw it, Sir, it was Simiol," purred Aurora Dindane. Zacharias Myers nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Professor, Simiol hurled the puck at Leon," shouted Shawna Shafiq.

"It was fully on purpose, Sir," added her friend, Cissy Carrow.

"Silence," growled Smethwyck, glaring dangerously, when Albus and Scorpius started to protest furiously. "I've heard enough. Simiol, that means a week of detention for you. Not only you deliberately hurt a classmate, even worse, you also lied to me. You're sinister and sneaky, Simiol, just like your father. No wonder that you are friends with Malfoy. Don't think you can fool me. You stay behind, we have to talk about your detention. The rest of you is dismissed, get along with you!"

No one dared to stay behind. Outside of the classroom, Albus saw Lucy and Dominique Weasley, accompanied by two other Gryffindors he didn't know. They didn't pay any attention to him, though, so Albus just followed his classmates to dinner. When Albus and Scorpius had finished eating, Quentin still hadn't joined them.

"Probably he went straight to the common room," said Scorpius. "I can't blame him, the Great Hall isn't exactly a funny place for him these days."

"We should bring him some food, at least," said Albus, who didn't like the thought of Quentin already avoiding meals at all.

"Good idea," said Scorpius, putting a large amount of casserole on a plate.

Quentin wasn't in the common room, though, and he wasn't in the dormitory either. Albus was starting to get worried about his friend.

"He can't be in the library, it's already closed," mused Scorpius. "Maybe he already has his first detention with Smethwyck? But immediately after class, without dinner?"

"We should go to Smethwyck's office and check it," said Albus. "To be sure he wasn't attacked by one of those idiots."

"Strelka was down in the Great Hall, so he can't have done anything," reminded him Scorpius. "But alright. Smethwyck is going to kill us, though."

Albus only waved his hand reassuringly and headed off determinedly, with Scorpius on his heels. His courage diminished a lot, though, when they finally stood in front of Professor Smethwyck's office. With an expression, as if he did something against better judgement, Scorpius knocked. The door opened immediately, and Tyron Smethwyck was looking down on them.

"What do you want?" he grumbled, eyeing them suspiciously.

"We wanted to ask, if you knew, where Quentin is, sir," said Albus.

"How am I supposed to know where this evil boy is?" snapped Smethwyck. "Up to no good, once again, I assume!"

With this, he slammed the door in Albus' and Scorpius' face.

"What now?" asked Albus after he had halfway recovered from this rough rebuff.

"Nothing now," said Scorpius. "We can't search the entire castle. Maybe he's just in the bathroom, or something. Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?"

"Maybe," murmured Albus. "But somehow I have a bad feeling about this."

They returned to the common room and finished their homework. When it was already half past ten o'clock in the evening and Quentin was still nowhere to be seen, Albus got more and more desperate.

"Where could he be? Maybe in the hospital wing?" he asked.

"Good idea," said Scorpius. "Let's look there. Just hope that Smethwyck doesn't catch us."

They had luck and reached the hospital wing without coming across a teacher, but Quentin wasn't there. According to Madam Pomfrey, he hadn't been at the hospital wing at all the whole day.

"This is really troubling," said Albus. Scorpius was looking worried now, as well. "We should tell a teacher," he said. "But not Smethwyck, please."

Albus snorted. "Let's go to Professor Arrington," he suggested. "He will probably know how to find Quentin."

They hurried to the Transfiguration master's office and knocked. Professor Arrington opened the door.

"I hope you two have a good reason to be out of bed so late?" he said, surprised. "Albus, what's the matter?" he quickly added, when he recognized their extremely worried facial expressions.

"Quentin has vanished," panted Albus. "He had to stay behind at DADA, we already went down for dinner. Since then, he hasn't returned. We already checked Professor Smethwyck's office and the hospital wing, but he isn't there, either.

Professor Arrington frowned. "That's not good," he said. "He might have been targeted by some bullies. Have you checked the way down from Professor Smethwyck's classroom to the Great Hall?"

"We - no," said Albus, already turning to head off, when Professor Arrington called him back.

"Wait," he said. "There is a faster way to find him." Arrington drew his wand, moved it in big circles and murmured, "Sequor Patronum!"

A huge, silver shining American eagle erupted from his wand and slowly flew out of the office. Professor Arrington signalled them to follow the eagle and led the way.

"Is that a Patronus, Professor?" asked Albus curiously. It certainly seemed so, judging by the eagle's appearance and the warmth it was emitting, but on the other hand, Professor Arrington had used a different incantation. Besides, Albus had never heard of a Patronus being used as some kind of detection dog.

"Yes, it is," answered Arrington, while they were walking. "I did a lot of research on the Patronus charm, you know, because I figured it might have much more potential than only fight dementors. And I was right, as you see, I managed to invent a few very useful versions of the spell. This one is going to lead us to your friend."

Sure enough, the eagle led them directly towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. It only paused at the bottom of the last staircase before the classroom, and sailed in circles above them.

"Lumos maxima" murmured Professor Arrington. The corridor ablaze with light, and Albus looked around. Quentin was nowhere to be seen, though.

"Homenum revelio" said Professor Arrington. Albus didn't know what that spell was supposed to do, but a small halo appeared about a foot above the floor. Arrington pointed his wand at the halo.

"Finite Incantatem!" he shouted. Suddenly, Quentin became visible. Albus gasped in shock. His friend was lying blood-spattered on the floor. Weakly, he tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't obey him.

"Quentin!" cried Scorpius and rushed to his side. "Move aside, please," said Professor Arrington not unkindly. Reluctantly, Scorpius stepped back, and Arrington levitated Quentin on a stretcher and set off to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was reasonably shocked when she saw Quentin's multiple injuries and bruises, but according to her, luckily, none of them was life-threatening. She poured some potions down his throat, and Quentin sat up a bit and seemed to recognize Albus and Scorpius for the first time. "Hi," he croaked.

"What happened, Mr Simiol?" asked Professor Arrington sharply.

"Professor!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey outraged. "You cannot possibly think of questioning the boy now, he needs rest -"

"It's okay," interrupted Quentin quietly and unexpectedly. He took a deep breath. "Professor Smethwyck asked me to stay behind after class. He told me the details about my detention. Then I left the classroom, and the next moment I felt something pushing me in my back. I lost the balance and fell down the stairs. Then I couldn't see anything anymore, because someone had given me a blindfold. I was punched and stabbed from all sides. In the end, they body-bound me and somehow made me invisible. I was lying there until you found me. It felt like ages, and I couldn't move. It was terrible," he whispered.

"Did you recognize any of your attackers?" asked Professor Arrington.

Quentin sadly shook his head and flinched at once. "No," he said. "I couldn't see anything because of the blindfold, and they almost didn't talk. I have no idea who it was."

O

"Who knew of Teddy's mission, Harry?" asked the Minister of Magic, Ernie Macmillan.

"Aside from you, Hermione, Ron and Percy and Proudfoot? No one, as far as I can tell. But if Teddy is right, someone still must have got wind of it."

"Have you already an idea how this could be possible?" asked Ernie.

"Well, our conference room is absolutely bug-proof. We talked about it at the Auror Office, of course. In our premises are precautions against spies, though. That leaves three possibilities: Either we have a traitor in the Auror Office, or an Auror was careless and let something slip, or Percy let something slip."

"Or Mensong was lying and no one gave them a hint. They might have found Teddy without help, after all. Nevertheless, how do you intend to proceed further?"

"I don't know, Ernie, I just don't know!" said Harry furiously. "The situation is a disaster - one half of my Aurors are searching the whole country for traces of Fiendfyre, traces of Dark magic, without the slightest success. We can't find the Fiendfyre guy, we can't find Firenze's killer. The other half is trying to find those goblin extremists who have killed Audrey and Susan and all the others. And they have just as little success! We don't know which role Francois Simiol and the Front Magique has, as well. We don't know for sure why Molly Weasley committed suicide, or if it was suicide after all. And now a potential traitor inside the Ministry. I can't do anything, Ernie, because I don't know who the enemy is! The past few months we have totally failed in everything we've done, Ernie, I just don't know if I'm the right man for this job anymore."

"Calm down, Harry," said Ernie. "We mustn't lose our head now. Let's discuss this with Hermione, Ron and Percy. We will conceive a plan of action."

O

Quentin had recovered relatively quickly and was released from the hospital wing after three days. Madam Pomfrey had healed his physical injuries quite quickly, although, according to her, he was lucky that his own blood hadn't suffocated him. More troublesome, however, had been his mental damage. Quentin appeared to have claustrophobia; thus, lying petrified on the floor had been mental torture for him. At first, even the blanket had caused him to feel uncomfortable and he couldn't sleep with it, so Madam Pomfrey had to cast a warming spell. Scorpius was very good at cheering him up, though, which seemed to unnerve Madam Pomfrey at first. When Albus expressed the theory that it would possibly "accelerate the healing process", however, she didn't object their frequent visits anymore, and Quentin soon felt better. Sure enough, it remained unknown, who his attackers had been.

One night, when Albus, Quentin and Scorpius were sitting in the common room, watching the stars and talking about their classes, an owl landed at a window ledge and tapped with its beak at the glass. Scorpius got up, opened the window and carried the owl inside, petting it carefully. The owl was carrying a small package and a letter.

"It's addressed to you, Albus!" said Scorpius, who already seemed to be best friends with the owl, as it affectionately snuggled its head into Scorpius' pullover. Surprised, Albus took the letter and opened it.

"Dear Albus," it read.

"My grief about my daughter's dead and the tragic circumstances has been indescribable. I heard about your duel with Molly before she jumped. While I certainly don't blame you alone for her death, I'm sure you will have a feeling of guilt. You will be happy to hear that you might be able to repay some of it by doing me a small favour.

As you probably know, Molly's memorial ceremony will take place next week at Hogwarts. I will of course be there, too. All I want is to talk to my daughter once again.

I don't know if your father told you about it, but before he faced Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, he used the so-called Resurrection Stone. This Stone is one of the three so-called Deathly Hallows (the other two are the Elder Wand, which played an important role in the Second Wizarding War, as I'm sure you know, and your father's Invisibility Cloak). It enables you to raise your loved ones from the dead. Even though they don't really belong into this world, you can certainly see them and talk to them for a while.

Your father dropped the Resurrection Stone in the Forbidden Forest, and it was never retrieved. Now I ask you to find it for me, as I have a feeling that you certainly owe me that much. In the parcel you'll find an object invented by the Department of Mysteries; it can detect the Stone and will lead you the way.

I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions. You may not for anything tell a teacher or your father about this, they would never let you go into the Forbidden Forest. Trust me when I tell you, though, that there is no danger for you in the Forest. The centaurs are not attacking students and would not let harm befall you in their territory.

Please recover the Stone and give it to me at the memorial ceremony next week. Then I will forgive you everything, and your debt would be fully repaid.

In inexpressible hope,

Your Uncle Percy."