A/N: For the purposes of this story, the wizarding paper The Prophet only prints in black and white, not colour.

x – X – x

Chapter 41 – Branching out

Toby Holder awoke from dreams of dark confusion and lost memories to the sound of the alarm clock buzzing in his ear. He fumbled for the sleep button and pressed it down, lying motionless for a minute, hand still resting on the clock, mind battling desperately to hold onto that shadowed face that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember, but as always, the image slipped away, leaving behind only the memory of eyes the colour of sapphires.

He sighed, opening his own brown eyes and gazing tiredly up at the ceiling. He'd never mentioned the dreams to anyone; they were only dreams after all and he'd stopped having them years ago. It was only since the war had started up again that they'd come back.

He threw off the covers and stumbled along the hall to the bathroom, turning on the shower and standing under it for a few minutes to try and clear his head. He knew what the dreams were about, of course, even if he couldn't remember the exact details when he awoke, because he'd been told the story hundreds of times as he grew up.

He'd been only a few weeks old when the Death Eaters had come to his Aunt's house in a quiet part of Kent. The Aunt and her family had all been killed, and for a while everyone thought he was dead too, since he'd been staying there for the night, but then he'd turned up without so much as a scratch on him on the doorstep of an Auror.

Everyone had agreed it was mystery, but the general consensus seemed to be that it didn't pay to question good fortune so after a halfhearted investigation the matter was left alone. Toby himself would have been perfectly happy to let the matter go as well if only his nights were freed from these childhood nightmares. He wondered whether he should ask the Auror about it – the one who'd found him all those years ago. His mother had said there hadn't been a note but maybe he'd seen something, maybe he had a name to match the blue eyes. Surely it was worth a try? Anything for a decent nights sleep.

x – X – x

Harry sat in the front room of the Burrow, flicking through one of the spell books Hermione had found in Diagon Alley, half listening to the chaos going on around him. It was Halloween and someone had decided a party was just the thing to cheer everyone up a little so last minute decorations were being sorted out by anyone who had hands to spare.

Except him.

Harry shifted in the large armchair and gave up pretending to read. He couldn't feel in less of a party mood; it had now been over two months since Bill and Fleur's wedding and he still hadn't visited Godric's Hollow or his parent's graves and now it was Halloween, the anniversary of their death and he was sitting here, alone. With no one watching him. Mrs Weasley and Fleur were busy cooking – he could hear them every now and then arguing over the best way to prepare this dish or other, and everyone else was in the garden, setting up for tonight.

He glanced around the room, and then at his watch. It was nearly half eleven – surely no one would miss him if he slipped out for a couple of hours? As long as he was back before the party...

Before he could change his mind he ran upstairs to get a jumper, grabbing the invisibility cloak from his trunk as an afterthought, then hurried outside, throwing the cloak around his shoulders. Ron & Hermione could contact him if they needed to – Robert Avery had told them how to make more of those secret note papers and Hermione had spent three days enchanting a new set of three – one for each of them so they could still contact each other if they ever got separated again like they had in the underground chamber.

At the gate of the Burrow he paused and looked back at the house, wondering if he should tell someone after all. But then they'd try to stop him or insist on coming with him and he didn't want that; they were his parents – he wanted to find them on his own, so drawing his wand from his pocket, he concentrated hard on where he wanted to go and disapparated.

x – X – x

Nymphadora Tonks hummed to herself as the lift creaked and clanked its way up from Level 2 to Level 1 and the automated voice announced that she'd reached the Minister's private level. She stepped out and hurried over to the front desk, grinning at the man standing there.

"Wotcha Adrian."

Adrian Jones looked up, surprise registering in his dark brown eyes.

"Tonks? I haven't seen you in ages – how are you?"

"Fine," shrugged Tonks, slapping a folder down on the polished counter and sliding it towards him. "Updates on the escapees," she added, seeing him look questioningly at the folder.

"Is there anything to update on?" he asked, arching an eyebrow as he stuck a post it on the folder and scribbled something on it, before slipping it into a chute behind the desk. Tonks grinned at him, thinking he hadn't changed much since they'd been at school although perhaps he was a little more mature, but then again weren't they all? The war was making everyone learn to grow up very fast and yet she got the feeling that he might still be up for pulling a few pranks every now and then.

"That's classified information, I'm afraid."

"Really? So it doesn't just contain a sheet of paper saying 'we still haven't caught them', then?" asked Adrian, brown eyes glinting with mischief. She was about to reply when the programmed voice sounded again from the lift and she turned to see Mad Eye stumping out, glowering at something.

"Where's Belmont?" he asked, fixing both blue eyes on Adrian. Adrian paused for a second, seemingly on the point of asking him something, then turned abruptly and consulted the chart behind the desk.

"Out on duty."

"Out?" Mad Eye's frowned deepened; he sounded worried. "Out where?"

"Only the Minister knows that," answered Adrian, looking apologetic.

"Well he was meant to check in this morning and he didn't," growled Mad Eye. "So I suggest you find out where he is."

Adrian looked uncertain for a moment then stepped out from behind the desk and headed into a corridor leading into the depths of the level. Tonks glanced at Moody anxiously.

"D'you think Belmont's double crossing us?"

"I doubt it, he's far too loyal to Scrimgeour," said Moody in a low voice. "But I prefer to have him where I can see him."

A moment later Adrian reappeared with a dark haired man beside him who Tonks recognised from school – he'd been in her year as well, a Hufflepuff by the name of Toby Holder.

"You're looking for Ryan Belmont?" asked Toby, looking at Mad Eye, who nodded.

"You know where he is, Holder?"

"The Minister sent him out to work on public relations." Mad Eye frowned.

"Does that mean what I think it does?"

"Well if you think it means that he's scouting out Potter again, then yes," answered Toby, running a tired hand through short brown hair.

"He'll never get to him," Tonks put in hotly, scowling, but Mad Eye was shaking his head. Scrimgeour was no fool – he knew he couldn't get to Harry at the Burrow, so he was sending envoys elsewhere.

"Where is Belmont now?"

"I can't tell you that," said Toby, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry, Mad Eye."

Tonks raised an eyebrow at the informal address, and then she remembered that Moody had known Toby's surname too.

"Actually," said Toby suddenly as Mad Eye drummed his fingers on the wooden desk. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you about. Could you spare ten minutes or so? I've got a break now."

Two blue eyes fixed on Toby's innocent features and a slow smile spread across Moody's face.

"Certainly. Why don't we step outside?"

x – X – x

Harry looked down at the white marble slabs in front of him, wondering vaguely if he should have brought flowers. There was an assortment of flowers laid on the tombstones now, and even to his inexpert eye they seemed rather strange. Didn't people usually bring bouquets to lay on graves? The nine flowers that lay here seemed to be totally independent of each other. He didn't have long to ponder this thought, however, because a slight cough behind him made him glance round and he saw a short man with reddish brown hair and thin wiry spectacles looking up at him.

"Mr Potter?"

"Yes?" There was no point in lying – he couldn't hide his scar, after all.

"My name's Francis Belmont, I'm from the Ministry-"

And that was as far as he got, because at that moment two things happened. The first was that two figures appeared at the gates of cemetery and, seeing him, started to make their way purposefully towards him. One of them, Harry saw, was Moody and with him a young man in his mid twenties that he didn't recognise.

The second thing that happened was a large black bird that swooped down from the sky and began attacking the Ministry official, clawing at his face and snapping it's sharp beak so fiercely that the man stumbled backwards, tripping over the marble headstones. Harry stepped back himself as Moody and his companion hurried over. As they approached, the bird fluttered up to a tree and perched there, looking archly down at them, and Harry gazed at it, wondering if it was who it thought it was.

"Belmont," said the young man with Moody, reaching down to help the fallen man. "There's been a development on the Simmons case – Fredrick wondered if you could investigate."

"What, now?" asked Belmont, struggling to his feet.

"Well obviously clean yourself up a bit first," replied the other man, gesturing to his scratched and bleeding face. "But yes, as soon as possible."

"But-"

"Francis, we've been waiting months for-"

"All right, all right, I'm going," blustered Belmont, adjusting his glasses and looking wretchedly at Harry. Then, after a few moments hesitation, he pulled out his wand and disapparated, murmuring disconsolately under his breath.

The other man squinted up at the black bird in the sunlight, a mildly curious expression on his face.

"What is that – d'you know?" This question was addressed to Moody who grunted in the affirmative, electric blue eye spinning dizzyingly in it's socket.

"Egyptian eagle," he muttered, his normal eye swivelling to look at Harry. "You all right?"

"Fine," said Harry, glancing up at the bird again. Moody didn't ask what he was doing there alone, but Harry had the feeling this was only because he was preoccupied with something else, and sure enough a moment later he growled:

"All right, where are you?" The young man stopped his inspection of the eagle and glanced worriedly at him.

"What?" Moody ignored him, and gripped his wand.

"I know you're there, so you may as well-"

And then his eye stopped turning and focused on a point just behind and above Harry. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and turned around sharply to see a woman standing there, gazing at Moody with something like amusement in her blue eyes.

"Ambushing people in graveyards now, are we? Well I must say this is stooping rather low, even for the Ministry."

Harry stared at her, then up at the bird, still perched proudly on the thick branch high above. If the creature wasn't Katherine, why on earth had it attacked that man?

"What are you doing here, Riddle?" asked Moody, wand raised cautiously. Katherine's expression was all innocence.

"Paying my respects." She held up a single tulip, blue-purple petals folded together and smiled, eyes losing their playful air. "You going to arrest me, Alastor?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that'd be highly unfair," answered Katherine, laying the flower down amongst the others on the Potters' grave.

"Unfair?"

"Well for one thing, I'm unarmed."

"And for the other?" interjected the young man, pointing his wand at her chest.

"It's her birthday," supplied Moody, lowering his wand to Harry and the stranger's great surprise. "Why haven't you got your wand?"

"It's armistice day."

"What?" The man standing next to Moody stared at her in bewilderment.

"It means truce," said Katherine, looking at him for the first time, an insane little smile playing round her lips and at the sight of it, Harry grinned, thinking that this was the first time she'd looked normal since they'd destroyed the horcrux. The man just stared at her and she frowned slightly and turned her attention back to Moody who said:

"Armistice day isn't for another week."

"That's for a muggle war," said Katherine calmly. "This is for our war."

"Riddle, there's no such thing as Armistice day for our war," replied Moody in a weary voice. Katherine just shrugged.

"There is for us."

Harry glanced down at the flowers laid on his parents' grave and she smiled faintly at him. One flower from each person who respected this strange truce, he supposed, and it made him wonder who exactly they were. So far he counted ten different flowers including hers, and if they were all put on one grave, there couldn't be that many people involved.

Up in the tree, the Egyptian eagle ruffled it's feathers and Harry saw Katherine glance up at it questioningly then look sharply at Moody's companion who was still staring at her with an unnerved expression on his face.

"What?" she asked slowly, narrowing her eyes and shifting uncertainly. The man didn't answer, looking as suspicious as Katherine did and Harry, not having the faintest idea what was going on looked at Moody and consequently saw what the other two missed; Moody was looking worried.

With a rush of wings, the eagle launched itself off the branch and swept down to Katherine's shoulder, looking haughtily at the stranger.

"It's yours?" asked the man, surprise overcoming whatever it was that had stilled his tongue before.

"It's a he," answered Katherine, as the bird tilted his head to one side, inspecting the man with one dark intelligent eye. "His name is Archimedes and yes, he's mine, what of it?"

"He attacked Belmont-" began the man, then stopped mid-sentence as he realised why. "That's cheating." Katherine grinned at him, hands shoved deep into her jeans pockets.

"Why?"

"You're not allowed to fight or whatever so you get your eagle to do it for you!" said the man, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Three things," said Katherine mildly, blue eyes gazing at the man with something like cautious interest. "One – he did it of his own volition – it's not my fault he can read my feelings and tends to act on them; two – why are you standing here discussing ethics with a convicted murderer and Azkaban escapee when you're quite clearly from the Ministry and probably want me dead, and three – why are you looking so uncomfortable?" This last question was addressed to Moody who started, looking slightly guilty.

"You protected him," said the man quietly, gesturing towards Harry. "Why did you do that?" Katherine looked at him, a small frown creasing her forehead.

"I asked first."

"And I answered," said the man, brown eyes searching hers. "You're supposed to be a criminal but you drove Belmont away. I want to know why." Katherine narrowed her eyes and Harry could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

"You know, don't you? You know Belmont's a Death Eater."

"He's a what?" asked Harry, staring at her. Katherine glanced at him, looking mildly amused.

"Well if you insist on turning up unaccompanied to remote locations, you can hardly blame people for targeting you."

"But I was visiting my parents' graves," said Harry angrily and she nodded.

"Which is why Archimedes went for him. It's not very respectful."

"Oh come off it," said the man, shaking his head. "What's a bird going to do to an armed wizard?"

"I'd like to have seen him hex Potter with his eyes pecked out," answered Katherine shortly, scowling at him.

"He could have hexed the bird, then Potter," argued the man, apparently not prepared to concede his point.

"Wouldn't have done any good," put in Moody. "That bird can't die; it's life is tied to hers and as long as she lives, it won't fall."

"Like a phoenix?" asked Harry, casting a dubious eye over the bird.

"Not exactly; they don't rejuvenate themselves like phoenixes do," said Katherine quietly. "If you AK a phoenix, it'll die and come back as baby; AK an Egyptian eagle and it just absorbs the spell. You could drop a house on it and it'll get squashed but as soon as you lift the weight off it, it'll get up and fly around, good as new." She grinned at him. "Strange but true."

"Have you tried?" asked Harry, unable to think of anything else to say. Katherine gave him an odd look.

"Potter, that's just cruel."

"How can you call him cruel when you're a Death Eater," objected the man and Katherine looked at him, something like understanding in her bright eyes.

"Did we kill your family? Close friend? Relative?" She tilted her head slightly, surveying him. "Because you hate me, don't you? I mean really hate me and I don't even know you-"

"Don't you?"

Katherine stopped, immediately on guard and Harry thought that if she'd had her wand, it would have been in her hand in an instant. Then she looked from Moody to the man and back again, blue eyes narrowed warily.

"Should I?" she ventured at last, looking uncertainly at him. This was evidently the wrong thing to say because the man bristled, his scowl deepening and Harry saw Archimedes shift on Katherine's shoulder restlessly. "What's your name?" she asked, reaching up a hand to settle the bird's uneasiness.

"Toby."

"Surname," she said, frowning and casting a quick glance at Moody who was looking decidedly unsettled.

"Holder," said Toby, folding his arms challengingly. Katherine was quiet for a moment, drumming her fingers idly on the side of her leg.

"Nope, never killed a Holder."

"You know the name of every person you've killed?"

"Why is that so very hard to believe?" asked Katherine archly, and Toby looked at Moody, who shrugged noncommittally.

"She probably does."

"And you think that makes killing them more honourable or something?" asked Toby, fingers flexing around his wand.

"There's nothing honourable about murder," said Katherine soberly and Toby paused in his seething to look at her. "It's not just that I'm a Death Eater, is it? You hate me, don't you, only you weren't looking at me like that five minutes ago. So tell me, what did I do to you, Toby Holder, because you'd would've been, what six or so, when I went to Azkaban?"

Toby muttered something through gritted teeth and though Harry didn't make out what it was, he saw Katherine's reaction.

"You don't know? You hate me and you don't know why?" asked Katherine incredulously, staring at him. Toby looked up, face flushed.

"You were at my Aunt's house the night she died."

"And I killed her?"

"I don't know, I was only a baby."

"And yet you know I was there?" said Katherine slowly, appearing to consider this. After a moment she looked at Moody and gave him a bright smile. "Is he committed?"

"He's not mad, Katherine," said Moody gently, and Katherine threw him a look that displayed precisely what she thought of that sentiment and then Harry saw her hesitate and look suspiciously at Toby who stared back resolutely.

"How old are you?" she asked quietly, in a voice little more than a whisper and for some reason Harry thought he saw a trace of something akin to fear in her bright eyes. Toby shifted under her gaze and frowned, dark eyes flickering uncertainly before he answered.

"Twenty four."