disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Circle of Magic
a/n: sorry i couldn't update, my Internet was down, we got a new computer, i had to get my notes and copy off the old computer (it was given to my aunt), Internet was down again, and then my floppy disk needed to keep getting formatted every time I was at least half-way through with this chapter. well, anyway, enjoy
The Pursuit is On
Chapter 3: The New World
"Percy, you say you have news for me?" Scrimgeourthe minister of magic asked of Percy Weasley later that night in his office. The office was round and full of comfy looking chairs, it looked like a place where you wished to divulge you secrets, magical portraits, where the occupants moved, were found on the walls. On shelves were books that held various anti-dark spells and objects that detected dark wizards.
Percy Weasley was a red-headed man of twenty-two. He was of medium height, wore horn-rimmed glasses, and dressed his best at all times, especially after the number of years he wore hand-me-downs from his two elder brothers, so he liked the best these days. "Minister, I did like you told me and followed Potter, Granger, and my brother around, it is like you feared, they are up to something. Earlier this evening they met with McGonagall and the rest of my siblings, using the invisibility cloak you lent me I listened in on their conversation. It seems that Dumbledore had a granddaughter."
"Yes, Gabriela, I knew of her. She past away years before. What does this have anything to do with Potter?"
"It seems Dumbledore hadn't believed in his granddaughter's death. He left a letter telling of his fears and worries, McGonagall is sending Potter, Ron, Charles, Bill, and Granger into the world where she disappeared." Scrimgeour stepped away from Percy and up to his desk and picked up the papers.
"If that is true we might have some leverage. What else did McGonagall say?"
"Well, sir this is the part I don't understand. She said, and I quote, 'she is not only Dumbledore's granddaughter, but he-who-must-not-be-named's as well.'" he paused and moved around, trying to see the minister's face and failing. "But I don't understand how that is possible, it's not in any record books that you-know-who had a child."
"It wouldn't, would it? Especially because his son married Dumbledore's only daughter. He would have been raised under foster parents to make sure he had the chance to be raised right. So, like Dumbledore to give second chances to people who don't deserve it." Scrimgeour left his desk and walked towards the picture of himself, of the day he was inaugurated, and looked at his serious face as he talked on and on about what to do about Voldemort. "Well, Percy get the aurors Akeldama, Clemens, and Delaney tell them to gather they're best. They're going to visit a new world."
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"What is the latest news on Potter?" Voldemort asked his Death Eaters. They were in a large room that was lighted by a large stone fireplace that had dark creatures carved into it. A large table sat in the middle of the room, it's legs shaped like claws, Voldemort sat at the head, to his left was Snape, and to his right was Bellatrix. Lucious Malfoy sat halfway down table, his wife and son besides him. Across from them sat the man who was once known as Peter Pettigrew, but now was mostly called Wormtail. The other Death Eaters sat in between them, hoods and masks on. "Well? Is anyone going to speak up?"
A Death Eater that sat three seats down from Snape stood up and took down his hood and his mask out of respect for the Dark Lord. He had thick black eyebrows set over dark blue eyes that seemed almost violet. A thick long nose and thin lips. His cheeks were thin and swallow. His black hair was thinning. He wore the traditional black robes of the Death Eaters.
"Akeldama? It is rare when you have news about Potter. Isn't it your job to hunt down Death Eaters?" A evil laugh rent the air as Voldemort and his minions laughed. "So, what is it?" his voice cut through the laughter faster then a lightning bolt cuts through the air, because everyone became quiet before the first syllable was completely out of his mouth.
"Today, Clemens, Delaney, and I were called into the minister's office to give us a new mission. Potter, his two friends, and two Weasley's are heading to a different world to track down Lady Gabriela," like most Death Eaters they believe she would take after the Dark Lord instead of Dumbledore, "Dumbledore hadn't believed in her death even at his own end."
"And the mission is?" inside he was ecstatic, if his granddaughter was alive he could use her power to further his own. It was surprising that that son of his could create someone so powerful and he would have her on his side!
"To find and capture her for interrogation."
"Your new mission is to find her and bring her to me." Gabriela will be my greatest weapon!
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Early the next morning the group set out for America by the knight bus. Floo powder was too dangerous, because the ministry would be able to watch their every move. Apparition didn't do for such long distances across oceans and could also be easily tracked. Brooms too could never support their weight and the weight of their baggage for too long and would be a slow going besides and they were compressed for time.
So Bill hugged his beautiful pregnant wife, Fleur, giving her promises to return as quickly as humanly possible. The gang got hugs from Mrs. Weasley,a plump red-haired woman. They shared jokes and promises. McGonagall shook each of their hands and gave them envelopes with instructions written on it not to open them till they were safely in the other world. Before they knew it, it was time to board the bus and head on their way to America and towards an old friend of McGonagall's called Weatherby.
What seemed instantly after they boarded the bus they were there in America. The Knight Bus, it's driver Ernie, and the new conductor George, helped them with their luggage before waving them off and leaving, all before the sun had fully risen here in America, them in front of a misshapen, and likely forgotten, bar, it's windows boarded up with crooked boards and graffiti was written all over, gang names and random stuff that made no sense to the British wizards.
"I wonder if this bar leads to another Diagon Alley or something like the Leaky Cauldron?" Ron remarked quietly to his companions enough.
"What are you? Stupid?" he, apparently hadn't spoken quietly enough for others not to hear, for standing behind them was a boy in his awkward teen years staring openly at the group in front of him. He wore baggy black jeans and a ripped white t-shirt, curly black hair fell carelessly in his dark blue eyes. A skate board leaned at his side. "This early in the morning?" At first he sounded like he thought they were about to go into the bar and, as Americans would say, "get smashed". "Muggles might have heard, you know," it was then they knew otherwise. "Name's Brock. You will be Potter, Granger, Weasley, Weasley, and Weasley." shaking each person's hand in turn. Everyone just nodded in shock in surprise at this strange boy's new entrance. "I'm one of Professor Weather's students." the group recognized the name but didn't let down their guard, underneath their jackets they gripped their wands, ready for a fight if it came to that, waiting to see if he told them what McGonagall had said Weather's wizard would tell them. "What was it she told me to tell you...?...Oh yeah...!...Professor Weatherby and Professor McGonagall met when they were twenty-years-old and were traveling the world. They ended up traveling together after they met in the Leaky Cauldron and have been friends ever since. They had faced plenty of dangerous plants, like the Devil's Snare, vampires, giants, trolls, and dragons. Their most memorable moment was when they barely managed to cast their first partronus which is a bear and a cat when surrounded by dementors in the Alps." The group raised their eyebrows at his monologue, he said more then he needed to, all he had to have said was McGonagall's and Weather's patronus.
Without another word the group set after Brock who jumped on the skateboard and began to led the way through the already thickening New York crowds. "She's expecting us at the center," he told them, gracefully twirling around a couple of men who stood at a food cart waiting to get their morning coffee, or better known as sludge.
"What the center?" Hermione asked her need for knowledge taking over her cool demeanor.
"The Center is a place for wizarding parents who both need to work in the day to drop off their kids. There is no chance of exposure. Teens, like me, who are already in school for their magic spend their summer days their hangin' and helping take care of the younger ones. My brother, sister, and I are some of them." he did a twirl around a man who was reading a newspaper as he walked, but accidental, or not so accidentally, bumbled into his, causing him to stumble into a woman in a red power suit, spilling the Starbucks coffee she carried all over herself and her pocket book that she carried in her other hand.
"You Punk!" the man shouted. "My Vivienne Westwood suit!" the woman shouted, making other, non-fashion people, look at her strangely. It was just a suit, albeit, a rather pretty one.
"Next time take a taxi!" Brock shouted turning quickly down a side street, the group closely behind him. "Jerks. The whole city is full of them," he commented off-handily to the people behind him. "Here we are," where they were they didn't know. The street was full of dirt and trash. Gangs littered the corners, sitting on broken down cars that had graffiti written all over it. All in all it didn't look like a place parents would trust there children to come safely from. Then they saw it.
"It" was a beautiful four story house that seemed to take up a good portion of the block, making all the other buildings look cramped. Muggles couldn't see it, Harry figured, because unlike everything else it didn't have a speck of garbage in it's yard, or any graffiti. The house was painted a light blue, the windows were shuttered and curtained, left wide open. Roses and sunflowers were planted in the yard. The door was thick and oak. The knocker was shaped like a rose. A wooden gate, painted the same blue as the house surrounded the house and yard.
Brock ignored the three gang members even when they stood as if to move towards them and cause them problems. Bill cracked his knuckles and with his scarred face it gave a formidable impression. But when they stepped through the gate, they saw the gang step back in shock, shake their heads,a and mutter to themselves that they were seeing things.
"Professor! Professor!" Brock called leading the way into the house. A hallway was painted a soft mint green, the floors had a soft white carpet on it. In every room they passed, it was the same, bright cherry colors, with soft white carpets. "Not everyone comes from safe environments," Brock murmured lowly to them as he headed up the big oak staircase that dominated the front hall. "I've brought 'em, Professor!" he called again, stepping out onto the second floor. There were eight doors leading off, the doors of which were closed, "Bedrooms," he lead them to the end of the hallway, opened up another door that hid another staircase. Two door lead off of it. "Third floor, infirmary and library. Forth is where the teachers and other helpers keep their offices. Professor, I...!"
"I'm sure she heard you Brock," a girl who looked like Brock said, softly stepping out at the throed floor. "You know Professor Weatherby hates it when people shout."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Emily," he groaned at his elder sister, side-stepping her and beginning to climb upward.
"That boy," they heard Emily complain as they opened the door onto the forth floor. There were only two rooms on his floor. The one they stood in, a large circular room that was painted a deep red and the floors were a dark cherry wood. Desks of heavy woods lined the walls in front of book shelves on magical schools of the world and personal items, like pictures. There was a single door at the end of the hall. Brock left them there when the door open and a mysterious voice from the depths called out, "Come in Harry Potter,"
Slowly the group walked down the large room and stepped into the room. The door closed behind them without any help with a resounding thud. The person who had spoken sat behind a large wooden desk that took up most of the room. The walls were a plain white and the floor was bare. A fold-up bed sat in the corner, neatly made. Books lined the walls as did dark detection devices. The woman, for it was a woman, stood up and walked around the desk and shook Harry's hand. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance at long last. Whenever Minerva and I have time to get together, you and your adventures are all she can talk about. Oh," as she let go of Harry's hand and began to shake the others' in the group, "I hadn't introduced myself yet, have I? I am Julia Weatherby, the headmistress at the America's magic school. Now, shall we talk," she waved a hand towards the desk and instantly straight backed chairs popped up for all of them. "I hope Brock didn't give you too much trouble."
It wasn't hard to tell that Professor Weatherby had a one time been a beautiful woman. Her hair almost completely grey these days had probably been completely black just a few years ago, it was thick and it had some kind of inner luster. Her nose was so small it could be easily be missed or mistaken for a pimple that were set over simple brown eyes, her lips were full, her body generous. She wore simple looking robes of a midnight blue color. Her feet were covered ins simple slippers. Though in her sixties she was probably still desired by many men.
"Gave us a scare sneaking up on us, but no wasn't a trouble," Charlie assured her, sitting down in his seat as the others followed suit.
"That's good to hear," she breathed. "He can be a bit of a trouble maker," she confided, "but he has a good heart all in all.
"But to your problem," she went back around the desk and settled back into her chair. "Minerva said you need to get to the world were Dumbledore stashed his daughter and her family in. Don't act so shocked," she said, when they all did a collective gasp. "I was the one who helped them escape, like I'm helping you. Now..." from underneath her desk she pulled out her wand. "Phoenix wood, from another world, it can never burn with the core of a unicorn's hair." she went back around the desk and stood facing the group. "Let's go into the other room, there's more space there." She led them out of her room and back into the hall. With a wave of her wand she cleared the desks till their was an open space in the middle of the floor. She muttered a spell Harry and the others couldn't make out and a glowing circle appeared on the ground. She handed Bill, the eldest, a necklace, "that is to bring you and your companions back when your finished. Now, if your ready..." she waved her free hand towards the magic circle and Harry and the others stepped into it, "I'll see you when you get back." was the last they heard her say, before, with a flash of golden light, thew weren't in the room anymore. But in the woods full o"But of coursef tall, thick, and old trees. As luck, or Weatherby's skills, would have it, they were only a few feet away from the door of the cottage.
"Well, should we start?" Bill said, taking it in cheerfully and waving towards the cottage. Everyone agreed and started towards the house.
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Minutes after Harry and the gang left the three aurors and their chosen men appeared at the Kids' Center. Without knocking, without thinking that innocents might get hurt, they blasted the gate open and walked in. They blasted the door open and walked in. Children's screams of terror were heard throughout the house. Down the stairs pounded Brock, his sister Emily, and Professor Weatherby.
"Who are you? What do you want here?" Professor Weatherby demanded of the men, whose cloaks hid their faces. She pointed her wand at them, ready to cast any spell to stop them from hurting any of her precious kids. "I asked you who you were!"
"Don't get your knickers in a bunch, granny," warned one of the men. "We want Potter and that's all."
Weatherby smirked at the aurors. "He's gone to the other world already. I expect you know about that considering that your here."
"But of course," Akledama said, signaling his men to get ready, "if he's there already, you'll just have to send us after him."
"And why, pry tell, would I do that?" she said, smirking at them. "I don't like bullies."
"Will you if, let's say..." he pulled his wand from beneath his cloak and pointed it at Brock, "threatened to kill the boy?" she glanced back and forth between the two, weighing her chances. Could see it Akledama before he hit Brock? No, aurors are trained heavily in speed casting. She lowered her wand in defeat from the aurors and cast the dimensional spell.
"There all you need to do is go in, it'll take you there," she looked down in shame.
"That a girl," he motioned for one of his subordinates to move through and into the circle, nothing happened at first. Slowly all the aurors got into the circle, once they were all in the light came again. When it was gone so were they.
"Professor why? I could have handled the punch," Brock said, proudly.
"I said I would send them into the world in return for your safety, I never said I would make it easy on them."
When the aurors opened their eyes and looked around they screamed. They were in the middle of a swamp and were sinking fast into the murky water. Tall trees covered in goo grew out of the swamp, the more adept wizards cast spells that shot out strings and pulled them up and over onto the dryer land. "That witch! How dare she!" Akledama growled as he helped pull out some of the others.
Delaney, a stooped back young man with thin blond hair, smooth baby skin, wearing baby blue robes, patted Akledama on the back, "At least we're in the right world." Akledama just growled in agreement.
"But where in the right world?" the third man in charge, Clemens, a tall black man with hair dyed green, wearing three rings in one ear and none in the other and black robes. "It'll take us a while to get where we'll need to be. "
"Shut up!" Akledama shouted, smacking the poor fellow over the head. He hated when others pointed out the obvious. "The cottage is near Emelan, so we'll go south."
"North, would be better," Delaney commented. "Not many swamps int he north."
"He's right," Clemens said, when Akledama began to growl again. Akledama also hated it when someone out smarted him. "Men! Let's move!" There were shouts of agreement and the troops began to head North towards were they hoped Emelan would be.
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OK, it's not as long as I wanted it to be, but at least it's up. I know it sounds a little hurried, but I fear that my floppy will act up again, so this will have to do. any way i has everything i wanted in it.
thanks for those who reviewed.
please review this time too!