Chapter 13: A Vision in Strength

Remus looked up at the Weasleys, not completely understanding their request. With a muffled spell and a few moments pouring over the documents, he had the Weasleys' answer.

"Colin and his brother Dennis died during the final attack at Hogwarts," he said, his finger tracing the line as he read. "They were cornered by a couple of Death Eaters. I remember both of those boys. They never showed a particular aptitude for Defense. It also mentions that they had been pulled from their school by their father, Corwick Creevey."

"Now that's interesting," Ron said, rapping a fist on his desk as an idea came to him. "I remember that. Harry was right furious that they showed up like that when they had been safe, but he couldn't send them back where they belonged. It was too late at that point."

"Weren't they those young boys that were supposed to stay in Gryffindor Tower that managed to sneak down anyway?" Fred asked. "George and I made some comment about them being a little like a young pair of Weasley twins."

"Yeah. We thought it took serious bullocks to do something like that," George said. "We were keeping an eye on them. As long as we could, anyway. As soon as we had a spare moment, one of us was going to haul them back up to the Tower…"

"They bought Harry a few minutes of critical time," Ron recalled. "Colin was taking pictures of the Death Eaters. They were going to help the Ministry prosecute, they said."

"Helpful thought, if insanely foolish," Remus muttered, remembering that day. "I don't see how they could have gotten clear enough pictures to help prosecute anyone."

"It's the thought," Bill said, shrugging shoulders. "No one ever accused Gryffindors of possessing a great amount of common sense.

"Here's something interesting," Remus said after there was a short pause.

"What's that?" Bill asked. "Maybe we should just come through the fire."

"That might be best," Remus said. "I'm getting a bit tired of having to shout my thoughts through the fireplace. And if this is helpful evidence, then you're going to want to see it for yourselves."

A few moments later, and all the Weasley men were crowded around Remus'study. He felt a bit like he was back in his teaching days at Hogwarts. All the Weasley children had an aptitude for magic and were always a bright spot in his classes, even Ron, whom he suspected of underestimating his own intelligence.

"This is an article," he began, "from The Daily Prophet, two weeks after Voldemort was defeated. You know, when we were all too busy going to funerals to read the newspaper?"

"I remember," Ron said softly. "Sort of. Who wanted to read the newspapers? They were all full of rubbish about Harry. He was a saint one day, the devil the next."

"No, there's never much moderation in reporting, I'm afraid," Remus said. "This particular article is interesting because one Maximillian Springsdown interviews Corwick Creevey, who has just been personally selected by Ex-Minister Fudge to be a part of the Muggle Outreach program our current Kingsley put him in charge of."

"I seem to remember that," Fred said. "None of us thought he would be capable of handling anything else."

"Well, putting him in charge of Muggle relations wasn't Dad's favorite idea of Kingsley's. Do you remember?" Ron asked. "He went on for days about how poor Muggle relations caused the last two wars we'd been in and how this just showed the Ministry's blatant disregard for something they should be taking seriously?"

Bill raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea. I was absorbed… with Fleur. Charlie?"

"Yeah… I mean, I remember thinking the same thing as Dad, actually. What's the article say, Remus?"

"Well, he appears sane. Says he's always been fascinated by magic, and he was saddened that his children's exposure to something he always viewed as positive in his childhood eventually caused their deaths."

"Really?" Charlie crossed his arms. "It was their exposure to magic that caused their deaths, and not their exposure to a madman?"

"It's all in your perception, I suppose," Bill said thoughtfully.

"Tomato," Fred said.

"Potato," George responded. "You can say they're basically the same sounding word, but it's an entirely different connotation."

"You're too right, brother mine. Obviously, this bloke blames our world for the deaths of his boys."

"If you blame the wizarding world," Ron began, "I suppose it's just one step further to blaming Harry? I mean, he is our figurehead right now."

"Through no bloody choice of his own," Bill said through gritted teeth. "It's damned inconvenient that people still look to him and Ginny for leadership when they should turn to their government."

"You've got to be a bit more forgiving than that, Bill," Charlie said patiently. "We've lived through two governments failing to protect us. And each time, it was Harry who saved the day."

"That's the bloody point. Let him take a bloody rest and shag my sister," Bill said, and flushed red when he realized what he'd said.

"I hardy think this is the point," Remus said reasonably. "It might be worth our time to investigate this Corwick bloke. He knew Fudge personally, and has a personal grudge, if not against Harry, then against the wizarding world."

"But he's not capable of doing the dark magic it would take to do the types of things that are being done to Harry and Ginny," Ron pointed out.

"There are still Death Eaters around," Remus said. "Chronic followers with a penchant for evil and the need for a madman. If Corwick discovered any of these men…"

"Yes, it's possible," Bill said, rising to his feet. "We'll investigate it. I think we've got a brother who's perfect for the job. Don't you fellows?"

Ron grinned. "Percy."

"Exactly."


He hadn't always known that the world of magic had existed. As a child, he'd been fascinated by fairy tales and King Arthur. He'd spent hours daydreaming about magical spells and dragons, pretending to be a knight of the round table or Merlin, until adolescence, when he'd given that up for a much cooler approach to his obsession in the game Dungeons and Dragons.

Much to the astonishment of his friends, family and the general populace, Corwick Creevey had found himself married to the very beautiful Anne, who loved him in spite of his tendency to obsess. After five blissful years of marriage, Anne gave him a son, Colin, and then another to follow, Dennis. They stopped having children after Colin and Dennis's… uniqueness began to show itself.

Although generally pleasant children, it was obvious to everyone around them that they dealt with stress in a way that normal children did not. If Colin wanted the blue glass, and Dennis got it, Colin's glass would slowly turn blue. Or if Dennis wanted a teddy bear, but Colin was playing with it, the bear often ended up hanging in the air between them. Corwick and Anne had found their antics amusing, but mostly kept their sons' abnormalities to themselves. Exposing such a thing would bring the boys unwanted and undue attention.

The summer after Colin turned eleven, he received his letter to go to Hogwarts. The entire family rejoiced, after they confirmed . Finally, they had explanation for the strangeness they took a private delight in. The trip to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies for the first time was endlessly entertaining. He would never forget the sights and sounds of that first wonderful exposure to magic.

Looking back on it, he thought that would perhaps be the last time he looked on magic with true fondness. He watched helplessly as his son became proficient at things he would never understand. At least Colin was a nearly-obsessive photographer. Eventually, through both his sons' eyes, he witnessed the wizarding world change. Every year, the things the boys wrote home about darkened. He lay awake at night, worrying for his sons' safety with Voldemort around, and in Colin's sixth year and Dennis'fifth, he'd pulled both boys out of school. Even that wasn't enough to keep them from the lure of the world they had come to love so well.

On a warm evening in April, Corwick had climbed the stairs to check on his boys, and they were not there. Panicked, he'd examined every inch of their room and could find no trace of them, except for a note they'd left on their bed.

Dear Dad,

Gone to help Harry fight You-Know-Who. Death Eaters after us because we're Muggleborns. Shouldn't be able to trace you. Will be back once we've won the war.

Colin & Dennis

But they hadn't come home. They'd sent both of his boys home to him in body bags. Colin first, and then Dennis, who'd fought a hard battle in St. Mungo's before he finally succumbed to his wounds, passing in what he was told was an honorable, "Gryffindor" fashion. He'd never felt so lost. What did it mean to die in a Gryffindor fashion? Who were these people that had stolen his sons from him?

As the days went on, it became clearer that a true theft had occurred. Up until the day Colin had received his letter, Corwick had been firmly in control. Without Hogwarts, without sodding Harry Potter, who dared fill his boys' heads with adventures and glory, without Harry Potter, Colin would still be alive, sitting in his room at the top of the stairs, developing pictures to the best of his ability.

Even then, his newfound knowledge might have come to naught if not for the fortunate circumstances following Colin's funeral. Former Minister Fudge had approached him, explaining the Muggle Outreach program, and Corwick had seen his chance. It was not unlike the strategy that he used so many years ago in his Dungeon and Dragons games. Through subtle manipulations he was able to learn so much about this You-Know-Who and this Harry Potter.

Eventually, he began to see the logic in what this Voldemort person was trying to achieve. By keeping Muggleborns away from magic, he was protecting them from dangers they would never truly be able to handle. His Colin and Dennis had taken Defense classes for years, and they could not defend themselves against the threat presented them. Corwick could think of no other school he could have sent them to where they might have had to fight for their lives.

Of course, it was their loyalty to Harry Potter that was the true cause of the boys' death. They were safely tucked away in their home when they had decided that Harry needed their help. It had not taken him long to reach his decision.

Uncovering and stealing Lily Potter's memories had been easier than he thought. There were enough wizards left that dabbled in what they called the Dark Arts that he had been able to find someone willing to do what he had been told was considered one of the greatest atrocities of the wizarding world – aside from casting Unforgivables and the kiss of the Dementors. She had born the child that had taken the life of his. He could afford to desecrate her memory.

The death of his boys would not truly be avenged until Harry Potter had suffered the loss of what he had – the sanity of his wife, and the life of his children. If the corruption of his mother's soul was a side-effect, it was an added bonus. Once he had stripped Harry of all he loved, then he would be merciful and end Harry's life. Only then.


Percy was seated at his desk, happily scratching away at a piece of parchment that held his To-Do List. At the very least, he was distracted from what his brothers were doing at the moment. His sister had been one of the first to accept him back into the Weasley fold, and Harry had quickly followed, and therefore, they were both extremely close to him. He hated to see the start of their healthy family marred by such dark magic.

There was a series of impatient raps at his door. Percy responded without looking up. "Come in. I've got a few minutes."

"I should hope so," Bill said, grinning at him as Ron and the twins filed in the office as well. "We need to get in touch with a Muggle, Perce."

"Is that so?" Percy chewed on the end of his quill for a minute then whirled his chair around. With a wave of his hand, it began to move forward, approaching the book case. Grabbing the law book he needed, he scooted the chair back to his desk. "Which Muggle, and why?"

"Corwick Creevey," Fred said instantly.

George immediately followed that up with, "Because he's been trying to drive our sister around the twist, that's why, you great prat."

"It was a logical question," Percy protested mildly. "I know that name, though. Why do I know that name?"

"He's a Muggle that was a part of the recently nixed Muggle Outreach Program headed up by Fudge," Charlie said.

"Ah yes," Percy said softly. "That would explain why I know the name. There for a number of years I watched Fudge very carefully, yes."

"Were you watching him closely when he died?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.

Percy laughed harshly. "No, I'm afraid I wasn't nearly so… uncouth. No. Penelope suggested it was unhealthy for me to be so concerned with him, in light of my future… goals. I stopped immediately, of course."

"Percy, we need to get in touch with Corwick Creevey," Ron said patiently.

Percy nodded gratefully at Ron, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation had been heading. "Your best bet would be to send him an owl, since he was on the Outreach program, he should be used to getting them and it won't startle him too much. You can arrange a meeting with him that way."

"Let's all remember our war training," Ron said. "Percy, you set up the meeting. I'm the only one still in combat shape, so I'll go with him. In the meantime, no one does anything stupid. Don't try and get Corwick alone by himself. We still need to be able to prove he did something to Harry and Ginny."

"That should be easy enough, with the magical tracing spell," Percy said pompously.

"Yeah. Minus that whole 'Muggle' thing – which means he can't do magic, which makes our tracing spell pretty much rubbish. Other than that, great idea Perce," Fred drawled sarcastically.

George raised an eyebrow at his twin. "We'll have to come up with something different. Catch him in the act or something."

"We can plant something on him," Fred said suddenly. "Like they do in those Muggle spy films… an insect, or whatever they call it."

George nodded excitedly, the only one of the men in the room who had any idea what was going on. "Like… a portable Extendable Ear that will let us hear everything that he says."

"The idea being that we listen to this guy live his life for a few days and then we'll have some idea if he's doing this on purpose or not?" Bill asked.

Fred grinned triumphantly. "Exactly. He's got to be getting frustrated that he can't get to Ginny…"

"With that great sodding Pacific Ocean and all…" George continued.

"He'll say…"

"Or do," George interjected.

"Somethingincrediblystupid."

"Sooner or later," George finished with a grin. "Criminals usually do, don't they Ron?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's probably not legal. But… Perce can make it legal, can't you?"

"It's just a matter of getting a permit," Percy said with a shrug. "And since I do work in the Permits and Licenses office…"

"Done," Bill said, beaming.

"We've got him," Ron said, unable to stop the grin overcoming his face. "We've got him now!"


A/N: I apologize for the complete lack of Harry and Ginny in this chapter. Not my fault. They didn't want to play.