AN - Some revenge is gotten in this chapter!

All conversations in italics are in Elvish.

PHOENIX and DRAGON: Through the World Gate

Chapter 8

The lights on the two police cars and large police van reflected off the spotless windows of number 4 Privet drive, giving an almost festive look to the proceedings. Neighbors stood in watchful groups as a social worker with Child Protective Services carried a shrieking Dudley Dursley out of the house and deposited him in a car seat in the back of a tan sedan, struggling for several minutes to strap him in securely as the four and a half year old kept kicking and biting her in a fit of temper. Dudley's screams increased in volume, if that was physically possible, when three policemen dragged a handcuffed and enraged Vernon Dursley out of the house and pushed him struggling and cursing through the open doors of the van, not caring if he was injured in the process. Another policeman soon followed with a petulant Petunia Dursley and placed her in the back of one of the police cars, slamming the door and locking her in with an expression of distaste on his face.

A police forensic specialist in a white overall emerged a moment later with a large box containing numerous plastic bags of evidence, mostly gathered from a certain cupboard under the stairs. Flashes of light from inside the house gave evidence that the photographer was still documenting the crime scene.

Arabella Figg smirked slightly with satisfaction as she watched from across the street, a large cat with intelligent eyes cradled in her arms. Minerva was going to be so pleased when she told her about this evenings events.

"Do any of you have anything else to add to Moody's report," Dumbledore asked, gazing around at the people gathered in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. His question was met by discouraged head shakes and worried looks from most of the order members. Harry had been missing for five days now, and despite the efforts of all the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix and half the aurors from the Ministry of Magic, there had been no trace of him.

He sighed and sat down wearily in his chair with no trace of twinkle in his eyes, more concerned about the missing boy than he let on. There were too many plans depending on Harry Potter to just let him disappear without a trace. "Kingsley, did you follow up on the report from Berkshire?"

Kingsley nodded glumly. He'd spent most of the day following up on a report from an elderly wizard living there, only to find out the child the man had seen looked nothing like the Potter boy. This had been only one of a great many Harry Potter sightings since the Daily Prophet had somehow gotten wind of disappearance of the Boy-Who-Lived and put the news on the front page of the paper. With the number of people involved in the search, it had only been a matter of time before the news leaked.

Dumbledore was at a loss. An Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries had spent over an hour yesterday running tests on the strange magical traces left in the cupboard at the Dursleys, but the cloaked wizard had apparated away without answering any of Dumbledore's questions. Now none of his contacts within the department would answer his owls. Tracing whoever had used the odd magic had been one of his last hopes because none of the tracking spells he'd put on the boy when he'd dropped him off at the Dursleys were working. All of the delicate magical devices he'd set to monitor Harry were useless, even the illegal ones he'd tied to the boys blood and magical signature. They had been working, more or less anyway, after the wards fell on October 28th, even if each one pointed that Harry could be found in a different direction. Then yesterday they had started spinning uncontrollably, and now they all acted as if Harry were everywhere, and nowhere, at the same time. There was still some hope of finding the boy at least, because the one set to monitor his life force was still working correctly and it showed that Harry was still alive.

Dumbledore looked around the room again and noticed that Minerva McGonagall was glaring at him again, as she had at every meeting since Harry was discovered missing. She was furious with him since she'd found out how Harry's relatives had mistreated him, and she had nearly destroyed his office trying to hex him when she discovered he'd known about it and had done nothing. She didn't understand how important it was, for the greater good of course, that Harry was timid and biddable, kept ignorant of the wizarding world so he, Albus Dumbledore, greatest wizard of the modern age, could guide him to his ultimate destiny.

"You are dismissed," Dumbledore stated wearily, releasing the order members. "Get some rest; we will begin searching again in the morning." It was after midnight, and it was obviously a waste of time to keep everyone any longer.

A large tawny owl tapped gently on the window of a small unplottable country manor, located somewhere near the Gwydir Forest of Northern Wales. A tall man with shoulder length silver hair, pulled back with a silver clip, set his tea cup down on a side table and rose from his comfortable wing chair, opening the window to allow the owl inside. "Come in, come in!" He stepped aside as the owl flew to land on the back of a black leather couch set facing a tall white marble fireplace. "What have you here, Mercury?" The owl held out its leg so the man could remove the rolled parchment. "Ah, this is interesting," he murmured as he sat back down and quickly read the missive, his dark blue eyes loosing their humorous twinkle as he understood the contents. "Perenelle! Could you come here please?"

"What is it dear?" A slender green eyed woman with a braid of pure white hair falling down nearly to her knees entered from the hallway, carrying a plate of raspberry scones. She set them down beside her husband's tea and seated herself gracefully beside him in a second wing chair, carefully pouring tea into her own cup and adding milk and sugar.

"It's a note from Cyrus." Nicolas explained as he set the letter down on his lap and stroked his short grey beard pensively. "It seems someone has been meddling with the mortals, and they certainly picked an important one!" He frowned as he thought through the implications of what had happened in the last few days. "The child the wizards call The Boy-Who-Lived has been taken from his relative's home and Cyrus thinks it was by one of our kind. He says the Ministry is like an ant hill someone has stirred with a stick. It's lucky it was Cyrus who was sent to investigate; he says he was able to erase the traces of Cymraeg magic before anyone else was able to identify it."

"I can imagine how much trouble this is causing." Perenelle set her tea down gently on the table and reached for the letter, taking a moment to read it through before she commented. "From what Cyrus has written about the child's caretakers, whoever took him probably saved his life, especially if it is as he thinks, and it was the iachau spell that was cast. That is an extremely strong healing spell and it takes considerable power to cast; it isn't used unless there is a serious or near critical injury." She tapped the parchment absently as she thought. "Intervention may have been justified, but nevertheless, this may cause some serious problems for us. How is Albus taking this? I understand he is the one who placed the child with his muggle relatives?"

"I would imagine he is not taking it at all well. I believe he had plans of some sort involving the child, and he's never liked loosing control of his chess pieces." Perenelle smirked at that comment, knowing how much trouble her husband had had with Albus's attempts to manipulate him when the young wizard was apprenticed with him to research the uses of dragon's blood, so many years ago.

Nicolas looked up as the owl hooted softly. "Oh, are you waiting for a reply?" The owl bobbed its head in agreement and shook itself, settling its feathers as it waited patiently. He rose to retrieve a piece of parchment and quill from a secretary desk set against the wall by the entry and began to write his reply. "I'll tell Cyrus I'm sending this on to the High Council and ask him to send me another letter if he hears anything more."

"Things should get pretty interesting when they get your letter," Perenelle said serenely. She thought the High Council needed shook up occasionally, and this news would certainly do that.

"The paperwork never ends," Dumbledore thought with frustration, still tired after only a few hours of restless sleep. It was barely dawn, and he had already been up for an hour. He was trying to catch up on the thick pile of parchment he'd put off handling while leading the search for Harry. "The most important child in the wizarding world is missing, and the Board of Governors still wants the budget report." He sighed as he dropped his quill and reached for another lemon drop from the bowl on his desk. He'd just put it in his mouth and rolled it into his cheek to suck on when one of the devices on his desk began to vibrate violently, then suddenly cracked in half, releasing a small cloud of acrid smoke.

It was the one that tracked Harry's life force, and it had just stopped working.