Chapter Eleven

Leader of the Blood Traitors

1

The Blood Traitors had escaped the ambush – that at least was obvious.

Twenty-year-old Julissa (or Gwendolyn Dante in this house) had waited up for her husband until dawn peeked through the windows of their living room. Finally, Howard Sullivan Dante burst through the door, putting her fears to rest at last.

He didn't have to say anything; she could tell by the way he brought the shadows in with him, dimming what little light had crept into the room from outside. His anger was a tell-tale sign his militia of freaks had failed their first mission as a unit. Jules breathed much easier knowing that the Blood Traitors had made it, but she now had to keep on her toes around her husband.

Howard pulled back his hood, revealing a mane of sandy colored hair and frighteningly livid eyes. In his current fury, he looked somewhat like a lion as he stalked toward her.

She never moved from the sofa as he menacingly approached, dragging shadows to blot out the light of the rising sun.

His feet coming to a halt at the edge of the sofa, he leaned in until his nose was inches away from hers.

"Darling," he growled angrily, his breath hot in her face. "You've been medaling, haven't you?"

Keeping her expression completely blank, Jules held up her mobile phone. "Sorry, your army of mutates must just suck at what they do. I found my phone, but your creepy house kept me from calling anyone. Thanks for that, by the way."

"Gwendolyn," barked the large man, roughly grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger, "if I find out this had anything to do with you – I'll make you very, very sorry."

"I'm already very, very sorry, Howard," Jules hissed, grabbing his genitals in a similar motion. "But you'll be much sorrier if you don't get your murdering hands off me."

Dante hesitated, not because of her threat, but because he was busy searching her unflinching eyes. He seemed relatively satisfied with whatever he found there and they released each other. As he stepped away from her a pace, the darkness swirling around him subsided and the living room slowly brightened.

"I will not let you ruin the plans, Gwen," he threatened calmly. "Get used to being stuck in my creepy house, because I'm not letting you out for a long time."

With that he stalked into the hall toward his lab, leaving her breathing a little easier.

She watched him go before turning to look out of the nearest window. "Then I guess I'd better get going before it's too late," she sighed.

2

The next day brought rain – lots of it. As the roads in Hogsmeade became soggier, the people headed for the indoors. Including those inhabiting the darker alleys:

In the back room of an old Apothecary in a seedier area of the village, a man and a woman sat in casual conversation. The woman lounged in a rickety wooden chair the same way a Queen might sit a throne. Her refined looks and splendid robes looked equally out of place in the shabby surroundings. On the other hand, the man – nearly a decade older and more practically dressed – suited the place much better, but his posture was like a general's: his back rigidly straight even during their relaxed tea.

"Is everything going as planned, dear friend?" asked Morrigan, leader of the Welsh territory. "The blunder at Betwys-y-Coed won't set us back will it?"

"Not unless that Jett of yours has given away our secrets to the Ministry," replied Odin, leader of the northern UK territory. He looked much more the part of an underground operative with over half of his face covered in hideous burn scars that he did nothing to hide.

Morrigan tossed a strand of her long dark hair over her shoulder as she sighed in deep irritation. "Yes. It is a rather delicate situation," she replied. "If she were nothing more than a courier, I wouldn't be concerned, but because she is so much more in my territory, she is more valuable if she opens her mouth."

"But you said she had contacted you," Odin reminded her. "That's promising. And even if she has revealed anything, it would hardly be enough to thwart us. With your men and mine, we will have little trouble. The Ministry still greatly underestimates our numbers – fortunately for us."

Someone rapped on the door and Odin gruffly called them in. A handsome eighteen-year-old with golden shimmering hair entered, bowing his head slightly.

"Julius and Malleus are here when you're ready to see them, Sir," he said.

"Very good, Marduk," Odin replied. "But I'd like them to talk to you first, as this will be your first serious mission as a Millitis Optime. Afterward, I want you to speak with your commander to make sure everything about your improvements are controlled."

"Sir, Dante is dealing with other matters –"

"I don't care, Marduk," Odin said sharply. "What I care about is that you don't foul up my plans with powers that are too strong for you. You realize you could kill everyone around you if you cannot properly harness a phoenix's fire?"

"Yes, Sir. I promise I will not endanger the mission," Marduk answered quickly, bowing his head lower and backing out of the room. "Good day, and you Ma'am."

"If it wasn't before, you've certainly improved it," Morrigan said flirtatiously as the door closed. "I swear I'll never get tired of looking at that man."

"He's not your type, Morrigan," Odin grumbled. "He's too disciplined and boring. That's why Dante chose him for the phoenix powers – we needed someone who wasn't impetuous. Recklessness and fire are not a good combination."

Meanwhile, in a neighboring room sat Roman and an old friend. Their faces were uncovered for the moment. In this part of the building no one wore their masks, because if you were good enough to be allowed there, it didn't matter who saw your face.

Roman's friend was a burly man with short blond hair and a square jaw. His name was Sabian Barker, but here his name was "Malleus". He and the Italian had known each other since Roman (or Julius in the underground) moved to London eleven years ago. It was this man who recruited Roman as an Optimates and the major reason he'd gotten so far so fast.

Malleus had been thrown into Azkaban years ago, leaving Roman without someone constantly looking over his shoulder, thus giving him the chance to double cross the Optimates – a task which had become infinitely harder since Malleus's escape from the prison.

But all of that would be over soon. Roman wouldn't have to worry about being a double agent for much longer. Jett had laid out his choices very simply the day before and he'd finally made up his mind. He was tired of fighting the loosing battle. Now was the perfect time for burning his bridges behind him.

Welcome back, Survival Instinct! He always liked the name Julius better.

"So have you made up your mind?" asked Malleus.

"Hmm?" said Roman, resurfacing from his thoughts.

"Where am I going? With you? Or am I part of the distraction?" asked his friend eagerly.

'You'd think we were going on a field trip,' Roman thought as he looked at Malleus's excited expression. "Er, you're with me. You're father would rather I not put you so close to the M–"

He was cut off as Marduk opened the door and came inside, nodding politely at them.

"I thought my dad was coming back with you," Malleus complained.

The young man sat down with them, trying in vain to hide his annoyance with being shunted around by the higher-ups. "Odin is still with Morrigan. He wants me to talk with you two before he comes," he explained dryly. "Then I've been ordered to go back to Dante, who will only send me here again. So, let's get down to business, shall we?"

Roman raised an eyebrow at the overly serious kid and Malleus grinned nastily.

"Geez. You're such a stiff," commented the big blond man. "You're from an old pure blood family aren't you? Not one of these berks who lucked out by having three or four generations of wizards in the gene pool. What's your surname?"

"Allaway," Marduk answered flatly.

Roman was not familiar with the name, but he'd never put them to heart like Malleus had. Apparently Allaway was a good one, because his friend's eyebrows quickly shot up.

The blond man whistled, impressed. "Wow! You're even more refined than the Malfoys! I'm surprised you don't have six fingers on each hand."

"I wouldn't tell Morrigan your family tree is straight as a board," Roman told Marduk with a smirk. "You don't want to give her another reason to jump your bones."

Malleus laughed heartily at this. Marduk's expression never changed, but his skin suddenly seemed to glow iridescent – like a mutant blush.

Roman chuckled. "You may want to work on that tell, Marduk," he said. "You have a pretty good poker face, but your powers give you away."

"Can you brief me on the mission now?" Marduk asked, refusing to get out of work mode.

Roman leaned back in his chair and replied with a sneer, "No."

"Why not?"

"How am I supposed to brief you on the mission now, if I have to talk to Odin about it first and you didn't bring him in?" Roman asked haughtily.

Marduk's skin glowed brighter than ever and he finally allowed himself to scowl openly at them. "You two are bastards," he snapped as he rose from his seat and walked briskly to the door.

"Aw, don't go," Malleus teased as the door slammed closed. He turned to Roman with a mischievous grin. "You could have briefed him, couldn't you?"

"Yeah," Roman admitted. "But if I did, I wouldn't be able to annoy Dante by sending him back to the lab."

"I hate that bugger," Malleus agreed, still smiling.

3

The rain moved over the Snook Tree Reserve, home of Blood Traitor headquarters, later that night. The sounds of it beating on the roof and windows greeted Ferris as he left the basement to stretch his legs after sitting for so long.

The young man gingerly touched the bridge his nose as he strolled down the hall – it was mostly healed now, but it was still sore. The cut on his arm had mended much quicker. Altogether, he had come out of the last fight much better off than he had during the one in December.

His stomach grumbled unpleasantly, and he paused as he reached the kitchen door. He honestly couldn't remember if he'd eaten anything since breakfast, but his insides were demanding nourishment. He thought about ignoring it and sneaking off to bed instead, but something caught his attention.

Somewhere behind the kitchen door, there was a noise – like a person scraping their feet against the tile floor. Thinking it might be Grandfather Snook, Ferris opened the door to say good night. However, it wasn't Mr. Snook.

There, clinging to the kitchen counter top not far from the back door, was a woman with long straight blond hair still dripping from the rain outside. She looked badly hurt.

"Jules!" Ferris cried, rushing to her as she lost her grasp on the counter and slumped down the cabinet. "Oh my God. Jules, what happened?"

She was obviously weak and out of breath. She found his eyes with hers and managed a small smile. "Escaped…" she told him exhaustedly.

His brow furrowed anxiously as he kissed her briefly on the forehead. "You sure did," he muttered as he looked over her cut and bruised face. "I hope you killed Dante on your way out."

"Heh… No," she breathed. "I might have killed his house."

"Fantastic," he congratulated soberly, "but I think you're seriously hurt. Come on." He picked her up from the floor and carried her bridal style out of the kitchen.

Taking her up the stairs, Ferris was almost happy she hadn't killed Dante. Now he would have the chance to get back at her husband for torturing her over the past years.

4

Not long after her discovery, Jules was in her room at her Great-grand-parents' house, barely cognizant as she lay on her bed. Ferris had called on his mother again to help and now he was explaining to her why they couldn't take Jules to St. Mungos. The rest of the Blood Traitors and the Snooks waited uneasily inside the room, listening to every word as the Medi-witch went over their leader with her wand, checking her symptoms.

"Ferris, this is more serious than cuts and a few broken facial bones," Dr. Thorpe told him. "She's been hexed by whatever she escaped from. Her brain is fine, but her body isn't doing everything it's told."

"Can you not help her, then?" Ferris asked worriedly.

"I'll do what I can, but she needs more help than I can give her here. Please, you have to take her to the hospital."

"We can't!" Sydney interjected.

"It's too dangerous," said Ferris for the fifth time.

"I don't understand why. If she stays here, her condition will only get worse. If it's more dangerous for her not to get further treatment, then her being chased by the Ministry or the Neos is the least of your worries."

Melencolia Snook stepped in at this point. "My great-granddaughter is not being chased, Doctor," she explained. "But the only reason she's not, is because both the Ministry and the Neos think she is dead. Taking her to St. Mungos is not an option."

Dr. Thorpe's eyes widened as realization sunk in. "What did you say her name was?" she asked.

"Julissa," Melencolia answered.

Dr. Thorpe's head snapped back to Ferris. "This is that Jules?" she demanded. "The girl you dated in school? The one who was killed by the Optimates?"

Her son sighed and nodded.

"Merlin's beard, Ferris," she snarled. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"No," he countered smartly. "You shouldn't know any of this, but there's no helping that now. I just want her to live!"

"What if we called Mr. Potter and got him to help like he did last time," Gus asked from the corner. "You know, no questions asked."

"It's too late for that. Just because no one writes her name on a chart doesn't mean Dante won't be able to find her," Ferris told his friend.

"Well, then I'm going to need some help," Dr. Thorpe said.

"Kermit, perhaps you could call in a favor from Dr. Briefman," Melencolia said to her husband, who nodded grimly and leaned heavily on his cane as he quickly shuffled out of the room.

Logan moved past Celeste and Sydney to follow after the old man, muttering something about contacting his ex-wife.

"Wait!" Dr. Thopre cried. "We'll need some things – potions and remedies. I'll write down a list and they can bring it when they come." She immediately produced a pad of paper and a pen from her pocket and started scribbling down what she needed.

"How long do you think she'll be unconscious?" Alton asked.

"It's hard to say, Alton," she answered, never slowing her pen. "It could be a few hours or a few days – it depends on how long she's been under the hex without being treated. And from the look of it, she's been like this for quite a while."

5

The following morning, Harry sat at his desk in his office. He was working on his case file to the sounds of Ginny interviewing another person applying to be his next assistant at Agape's old desk. This one – a skinny brunette – called herself Kimmy and was the third and last applicant for the day.

The Auror basically ignored them as he worked, but he found himself listening to the conversation at one point as he stared thoughtfully at the date, June twenty-second, at the top of the paper he was taking notes on.

"So, Kimmy, you've worked as an assistant before?" Ginny asked.

"That's right," the pretty young woman replied brightly. "I worked for the district manager of Firebolt Brooms for a couple of years."

Harry could see Ginny nodding out of the corner of his eye. "Of course, you know being an Auror's assistant is much different, right?" she said.

"Of course," beamed Kimmy.

Ginny smiled back and Harry knew she was just getting started. He poised his quill above his notes and collected his thoughts before jotting down a few more things about his daughter's friend, Trevor.

"How close were you to your boss at Firebolt?" Ginny continued. "Professionally, I mean."

Kimmy thought rather hard about this. Finally she said, "I suppose we were friendly. We didn't hate each other or anything like that."

"Mm-hmm… And how well to you hold up under stress?"

Kimmy's smile turned brighter than a neon sign. "Excellently! I don't mind a heavy work load in a short amount of time, and I finish everything before I leave the office at night. I'm quite efficient."

Harry could hear his wife's voice change ever so slightly when she spoke next – a tone she had adopted from Molly Weasley when addressing a young, naïve person.

"That's great, really," said the redhead, "but what about even more stressful than a heavy work load?"

Kimmy's smile never faltered as she asked, "Could you maybe give me an example?"

Ginny had a reply in less than a second. "Say you had to do all of the paperwork you see around us, keep Mr. Potter's schedule in order, run errands to other departments, and represent him in certain situations, all the while avoiding capture and personal harm by enemies of the Ministry within, let's say… a two week period. How well would you hold up then?"

Though Harry's head was bent over his desk, he stopped writing and his eyes looked over at his wife. He wondered if even Agape would have worked for him if she had been interviewed by Ginny.

The smile was gone from Kimmy's face as she looked from her interviewer to Harry and back again. "I er… I'm not…"

"Understandable, Miss," Ginny said immediately. "There is a job opening up in the Goblin Liaison Office, if you'd like to check there instead."

"Th-thank you," stammered Kimmy as she rose from her seat. "Have a great day."

"You too," Ginny replied benignly as the young woman left the office. She turned around to find Harry giving her a knowing look. "What?"

"You don't think that was overkill?" he inquired, amused.

She rolled her eyes. "Harry, out of all the Aurors on Level Two, only five of them have assistants. It's important that applicants know what they're up against if they want to work for you. They may not brief others like this, but you went through at least four –"

"Five."

"– five assistants before you were lucky enough to get Agape."

"So you're just cutting to the chase then?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and don't worry. I may have scared the first three off, but it's only the first day."

A memo zipped into his office at that moment and dropped onto his desk. He unfolded it to find familiar handwriting saying that the leader of the Blood Traitors turned up last night and was currently at HQ in bad condition. It was signed with a G. S., which Harry reasonably deducted was Gus Schmitt.

The Auror stood and gathered his files together. "Maybe you should talk to Remus's daughter – she seems like she hates her job, and unlike Yates, I'm not a wrinkled bag of hate."

Ginny grinned even as she rolled her eyes again. "Okay. Where are you going, by the way?"

"BT HQ," he replied in short form. "One of my MPs just returned home."

"Tell everyone I hope they're healing nicely," she said as he headed out the door.

6

It was evening before Jules opened her eyes. She woke during one of the few times no one was there watching over her. She felt slightly lightheaded, but when she tested her arms and legs, they seemed not to work against her any longer. She'd been hexed by Howard's barrier when she broke out of his house.

She'd busted out immediately after he'd slammed the door to his room the morning after his Optime failed. She never gave him the chance to reinforce the house – which seemed to be an extension of his own will at times and thus fluctuated with each day. The barrier coated the entire outside of their home, making sure she couldn't even break down a wall to get out. She could open doors and windows, but going any farther outside would mean sacrificing herself to its hex. And that was exactly what she had done.

However, this time she knew precisely where to run before the spell could take full effect. Of course, Howard had come after her, but he never expected her to go back into the house.

Once the barrier was breached, it was breached. The hex was there even if she did go back inside. All she had to do was wait until he was too far away to see what direction she ran in.

The spell was meant to slow her down so that he could recapture her with the least amount of harm, and though he had failed this time, it had taken her the entire day to finally reach her Great-grandparents' home. The gale wailing its own complaints outside had not helped her either.

She slowly sat up and let her legs hang off the side of her bed. In that position, she and the vanity mirror were face to face, making her pause. She had been Gwendolyn Dante so often recently that she barely recognized her normal reflection. Her straight, honey colored hair had reverted back to its natural white-blond curls and her eyes had changed from brown to pale blue. There was no makeup on her face and instead of stylish robes, she wore a t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

Ferris must have taken pity on her and made her look more like herself. She was expected to be no one else here.

A thought occurred to her not a second later: no sounds were coming from the house. Was everyone gone? How long had she slept? Was she too late to warn them?

A panic rose in her chest as she crossed the bedroom as quickly as her woozy head would allow. She fumbled with the door knob and stumbled into the hall. Reaching the stairs, she stopped, hesitant in her currently unbalanced state.

As familiar voices floated up to her from the first floor, relief swept over her. They weren't voices of people in danger, just her friends, safe from Dante and Odin. Now she could take the stairs more slowly, using all her concentration not to fall.

Gus came out of a doorway and spotted her coming down. His eyes went wide behind his glasses. "Merlin's beard, Julissa!" he cried, rushing to help her the rest of the way. "N-now, you have no idea how relieved I am to see you d-doing so much better, but you can't go wandering about on your own just yet."

Her alert eyes watched him carefully as he assisted her and she could see he was favoring his right leg on the steps. He looked fine otherwise.

"There you are," he beamed, looming over her by at least a head and a half. "I'm so glad you're alright."

She smiled back at him shortly, before more pressing thoughts pushed back into her mind. However, articulating these thoughts was a different matter.

"What moment…" she began before stopping short at the jerky, slightly mechanical sound of her own voice. She knew what she wanted to say, but she could tell her mouth wasn't going to cooperate.

"Pardon?" asked Gus, slightly confused.

"Sorry," she said. "Tricky to speech. Er… the date?"

"Ah! It's Friday."

"Date?"

"…Th-the twenty-second," Gus answered again, at last delivering what she wanted. "You've only been asleep for a night and a day – not bad, considering how long Dr. Thorpe said you could be out."

Jules raised her eyebrows at him. "Ferret's mum?"

Gus chuckled as he guided her down the hall. "I suppose you mean Ferris?"

"Exact."

"Yes, she came and your grandfather sent for Dr. Briefman, who came with Logan's ex-wife, the nurse," Gus explained happily. "They were able to do quite a lot for you once they all got here."

"Logan daught… uh…chi…Lib," Jules struggled, frowning.

"Liberty?" Gus offered helpfully. "We got her back, yes. Thanks to some help from the Order. She's fine, and so are the rest of us. You're who we're most concerned about."

Jules waved off this worry. "I'm fine," she managed to say. "Will find healthier soon."

"…Heh… Indeed. Let's let the others see you. Everyone is here, even Mr. Potter – well, he just left to get Agape, but nonetheless." He took her into the basement and again helped her down the steps.

Several heads turned her way the moment her bare foot touched the cement floor. Logan was the closest and his tired eyes met hers, immediately brightening with a smile that revealed fangs which hadn't been there the last time she'd seen him. "Jules!" he exclaimed as he rose to greet her.

That got everyone else's attention as well and they all came to her at once. Ferris looked the most surprised to see her awake, but also one of the happiest.

"I only left for five minutes," he told her after he kissed her.

"It appears the medi-wizards were right," Gus said to his blond friend, "She's having some problems with language, but it hasn't stopped her yet."

Alton suddenly pushed his way through the group and enveloped Jules in a hug. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you back," he gushed without letting go. "Can I stop being the leader now?"

This actually got a laugh out of Jules and she hugged him back before pulling away and saying, "You act fine job."

"Thanks, I think."

As they spoke and asked her questions that she could only give halfway lucid answers to, she peered around at them, assessing how bad a toll their latest battle had taken. Most of them looked well mended, though several wore fading purple badges for their efforts. She was surprised to see even Yvette carrying a speckled scar that spanned from her left eye over the bridge of her nose and above her right eyebrow. She knew the marks had come from one of Dante's spitting lizard Optimtes, but she was amazed the scar would last so long on a vampire.

It wasn't long before Potter and Agape came down the basement stairs as well, having just arrived.

"Look who's up," Harry commented cheerfully as Agape hugged Jules right away. "I've been here all day, and Schmitt said you could be out for weeks."

Jules had never felt so warmly greeted by any group in her life. She was grateful to be home at last.

Eventually, Ferris insisted she sit, and they all moved over to the large oval conference table in the back, Harry and Agape taking Trevor's and Roman's chairs. That was when Jules decided it was time to get down to business; she had to find a way to tell her team what she knew was coming. It would be doubly hard now, as (thanks to Dante's hex screwing up her language skills) she couldn't talk normally even if she were able openly discuss Odin's secret plans.

She decided to start with one of the most pressing matters: "Has Italy…Italian speak to you?"

They knew who she meant, and there was a collective silence among them before Alton answered bitterly, "No, Roman hasn't contacted anyone yet. We took it as a sign he wasn't coming back."

Then without warning, Sydney gasped and sat bolt upright in her seat. "Wait!" she blurted. "I totally forgot to tell you! Last night I talked to Trevor because Alton wanted me to warn him about Roman, but he said he'd already seen him in Hogsmeade when Logan was there with Harry and Agape. Trevor said he was acting strange – you know all mysterious and such."

"Where in Hogsmeade did he see him?" Logan inquired.

"I…I can't remember. He said it right when Jules got here, so I told him I would call him back – which I never did," she admitted, a bit embarrassed she had been so irresponsible. "I should have paid closer attention."

Harry frowned and looked at Alton beside him. "Does that mean Trevor was in Hogsmeade again last night?" he asked, remembering that electronics didn't work at Hogwarts.

Alton shook his head, realizing what Harry was thinking. "No. He can still use his mobile at school."

Harry was taken aback. "You mean your phones can override Hogwarts's spell?"

The red haired man smiled smugly at him, replying, "Yep. I may not be a good team leader, but I happen to be the biggest electronics geek the magical world has ever seen."

Jules called their attention back by continuing. "Italy with Odin," she said flatly and slowly. "He'll continue in Hog now."

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," said Celeste crossly, but her eyes betrayed how sad she was. Several of the others looked this way as well – Gus, Imogene and Yvette most of all – none of them had really expected Roman to turn against them.

"Learners move to house tomorrow," Jules continued, changing the subject and managing to distract them with her absurd sentence – she was immensely appreciative of them taking her seriously even when she wasn't making much sense. "Kids won't live… the same… not as safe now."

Everyone paused to work out what she was saying, and it was Harry who got the point first.

"That's what McGonagall said when I went to see Trevor," he agreed. "She was afraid they wouldn't be as protected outside Hogwarts."

Jules nodded eagerly, glad she had gotten someone on the right path so far. "Not as safe," she repeated. "Teacher correctly. Neos trap me exact behind I left school."

Another confused silence passed.

"They only caught Jules once she dropped out," Ferris helped.

"Thanks, Ferret," Jules said and watched Ferris wince slightly at being addressed by his least favorite nickname from Hogwarts. She shrugged at him, silently apologizing for not being able get his proper name out.

"I've told Tonks and Kingsley that we need to stay on high alert," Harry said. "The Ministry is waiting for Odin to make his move."

"You'll take too not on time," Jules told him rather helplessly. "Late."

"Late? What do you mean?"

"Can't explain."

"Has something already happened?" the Auror demanded worriedly.

"Can't explain," she said again ruefully.

"You looked relieved to hear the date earlier" Gus mentioned. "Can we assume it hasn't happened yet?"

Jules struggled for a moment, but quickly gave up and said once more, "Can't explain."

"I'd take that as a yes," Celeste added.

When Jules didn't confirm or deny the statement, the others basically agreed.

"Poe – Pot…" Jules stammered. She took an organizing breath and tried a second time. "P-Potter dialogue to boy at Hogwash?"

"Er… Trevor?" offered Harry. "Yes, we talked."

"Hints?"

"Maybe," he replied. "He showed me his mutation and said Dante had taught him how to control it. He said that he didn't remember much, but he never saw other kids his age among the Optimates…"

Jules's eyes grew wide and she leaned forward, nodding for him to continue. "Improvements?"

"Yeah, he said that's what they called the mutation, and that his hands were really tough."

Jules nodded vigorously.

"What? His hands?"

"Improvements!"

Harry thought of everything Trevor had said about his hands and started spouting off facts: "Their tough and very, very sharp."

Jules flapped her hands in a gathering motion to make him continue.

"Even in normal form the skin doesn't break. Uhh…Dante told him not to cut off his legs with them…"

"I feel like we're playing Charades," Celeste mused.

"He's more flexible."

"Exact!" Jules suddenly exclaimed before waving her hands at him again.

"He's a weapon," Alton interrupted before Harry could continue guessing.

Jules gasped and looked straight at him. "Can't explain," she said, but they knew he had hit the nail on the head.

"Nice work, Drake," said Harry.

"Actually, I was translating for Payton," the red haired man explained, pointing to his girlfriend.

"So what does that mean? Is Trevor dangerous?" Sydney asked, obviously concerned for her friend.

Payton called their attention by clapping her hand on the table. She started signing and Alton Translated for her:

"Trevor isn't at their mercy anymore, but Jules keeps mentioning Hogwarts and the students not being safe. Are the students directly under threat?"

Jules didn't nod or shake her head. She simply stared at Payton and said, "Can't explain."

The short haired woman started signing again.

"H-hold on, you're going too fast…" Alton stumbled. "Er – If they leave tomorrow, will they be in danger?"

"Can't explain."

"Are the Militis Optime involved?"

"Can't explain."

Harry swore under his breath. "We've got to warn McGonagall before it's too late. And I'll inform the other Aurors – maybe we can get something done."

Alton looked to Jules for permission and upon receiving her nod, turned to the rest of the table. "Okay, folks, let's get started! Sydney, call Trevor back and tell him what's going on –"

"But make sure he keeps it to himself until we know more," Agape interjected. "If the kids start a panic now, they may think it's a rumor and not take us seriously."

"Right," Alton agreed. "Celeste, get me that file we made of all the Militis powers – we have to come up with some strategies to defend ourselves better. Maybe Logan and Ferris can help me with that."

"Better let the rest of the Order know, Mr. Potter," Gus added to Harry. "We'll really need your help."

"I'm already on it, Schmitt. You should tell your boss," the Auror replied as he jumped from his chair and hurried up the stairs.

"Of course," said the lanky man, quickly following.

Jules watched them all scatter to their tasks and couldn't help but smile proudly. They may not have gotten the entire message about Odin's plans, but they recognized the threat. She picked Payton out of the crowd and tapped her on the shoulder. When the smaller woman turned toward her Jules wrapped her arms around her.

"Thank you," she said, "you're brilliant." They both grinned as they realized her sentence had actually made sense.

Payton signed: 'You're getting better already.'

Jules smiled again, nodding. Then she left her vigilantes to their work – she would leave the most important part of Odin's scheme to them, but she still had a job of her own to do and she didn't have much time to prepare.

She was gone by the morning.

(Chapter twelve coming soon! I will finish before the seventh book. I will finish before the seventh book...)