Chapter 3: Mr. Potter

For the third time, Tonks closed her eyes, and this time, there was a familiar tug on Harry Potter's figure. Diagon Alley vanished. The pair of them landed hard on a green grass hill. It was near sunset now. Harry looked around and realized he knew this green hill.

He momentarily forgot the tension. "Of all places to apparate, you chose the cemetery?" he groaned.

"Draw your wand Harry!" Tonks cried urgently. "Come on!"

Tonks sprinted away towards the gate. Harry was barely able to keep up with her. She was flying faster than her legs seemed to allow. They passed the gate, went up the street, crossed the small bridge, turned right twice and ran by the fountain. And they came to the house.

The house was wreathed in flames.

All about the once gentle home, flames licked all sides trying to drag it into the inferno. Most of the roof had collapsed inwards while a plethora of fire red ashes was expelled from the top of the house like hellish rain. The heat was so terrible that, even from Harry's distance, he could feel it nibbling at his skin. This was not a real fire – one to purge and reform – this was the flame of a pretender. Its only goal was to burn. Glass shattered from the heat and the walls were groaning over the crackling of the fire. As the light of the flames touched Tonks' face, Harry would never forget her look of dread. Harry's wand arm was shaking now.

No! Andromeda! Ted!

Without another thought, he desperately tried to charge into the home, the door now barely standing.

"No!" shouted Tonks, holding him back.

She held his arm numbingly tight, likely not realizing the strength of her grip. For all her oaths to the Order and the Ministry at that moment she saw naught but her childhood house bathed in fire.

"What about Ted and Andromeda!" Harry shouted. "They might be in there!"

"Don't you think I know that Harry!" Tonks screamed at him.

Harry tried to calm down. He realized how infinitely worse this must be for the pink-haired Auror. Tonks raised her wand, putting the tip of it in her mouth.

"Expecto Patronum!" she cried.

The spell went into her. Her eyes shone white like burning stars. She spoke with a strange voice, not her own. "The Order is compromised! We have a leak!"

The silvered ethereal wolf sprang from Tonks' mouth, fire in its eyes. The wolf multiplied into a dozen feral dogs and they dashed off into the sky, leaving silver tendrils in their wake. Tonks now turned to her burning home – looking worse by the second. Any minute now, it would collapse.

"Homenum Revelio!" she cried.

A moment passed and she gulped and turned deathly white. "No human presences," she whispered.

Harry gripped his wand tighter. "Maybe they escaped first. Maybe they're in the surrounding area." He pointed his wand away from the house uttering the first spell of his new wand. Oddly enough, he felt it would be one the most important spells he'd ever cast. "Homenum Revelio!" he copied Tonks' motions.

It gave the Auror one fleeting sense of hope. Together they sent off the charm multiple times, dozens in fact. Until finally…

"I got something!" Tonks shouted. "Behind! Back at the fountain! Two of them! Merlin, they're faint..."

Harry followed her fleeing form to the fountain they had passed. Behind the curvature of the large fountain, they found Andromeda, kneeling over her husband, tears in her eyes while her wand was brandishing furiously about her husband.

"Mom!" Tonks screamed and ran towards her, embracing her tightly. "Oh god, dad…"

Ted Tonks' prone form was bleeding profusely out of his chest and leg. There was another deep gash just above his ear and it covered the left side of his face in blood. He was wheezing and coughing out blood. The one visible side of his face was deathly pale and Harry shuddered what the next moments would bring.

Andromeda was shaking dreadfully. "They came on us about an hour ago! I've…I've never seen spells like theirs. They…they were looking for Harry. I took two of them down to the laboratory in the basement…I managed to set off my more instable concoctions. It burned them bad and I tried to get away while everything else began exploding. I knew they'd lose interest when they saw Harry wasn't there. I put up strong Confunding Wards while I dragged Ted off, but they had already gotten him with something."

Harry then noticed Andromeda's sweater, soaking with blood that did not appear to be from her spouse. Tonks took it in as well.

"God, mom…are you…"

She brushed it off, with the strength of Black blood. "I casted a few healing charms on myself before tending to your father."

"Mum!" cried Tonks. "Casting healing charms on yourself? You of all people know how dangerous that is!"

Harry remembered witnessing Tonks doing that very thing but he said nothing.

"Stop it Nymphadora!" snapped Andromeda. "I'm trying to save your father's life. That's all that matters. Are you going to help me?"

The Auror looked to be on the verge of tears. She wiped them away bravely, looking at her dying father. "What do I have to do?"

Harry was utterly forgotten and he wouldn't have had it any other way. He so desperately wished he could do something to help. But Andromeda was a professional Healer and Tonks was an Auror, having at least a bit of experience in field healing charms. He merely stood guard as he felt the Polyjuice potion giving way to his natural form. He could hear Tonks and her mother murmuring incantations and charms over Ted Tonks' bleeding body.

"Do you have the blood-replenishing potions?"

"Okay, cauterize."

"I've never seen this before. Back out, use the purifying charm on the leg and try again."

"Keep him awake! Don't let him fall away. Drowsing charm! Hurry!"

"Clean…no infection…counter-curses aren't working, we'll have to pump it out."

"We're not clear yet. God damn it, Tonks in my bag! The Felicis!"

"Are you sure mom?"

"Just do it Nymphadora! We've got to do everything to give your father the best chance."

Harry could only watched as Tonks procured a tiny vial of some strange golden liquid from Andromeda's discarded jacket. She poured it gently into her father's mouth – who coughed violently.

There was a quick crack in the air. Harry whipped around, a stunner leaving his wand. The figure that had just appeared, quickly waved his own wand harmoniously with the incoming stunner and redirected it towards the sky.

"Put that wand away!" the figure roared.

Harry saw a flash of red hair and he began to hope. Ron? However this figure was taller and his hair longer. He stopped approaching as he took in Ted's form.

"Bill!" cried Tonks.

"Tonks!" the man exclaimed. "Jesus, what happened?"

"The fucking Triads happened! Come on, make yourself useful! We've got to get my parents out of here!"

Bill Weasley?

Bill quickly rushed past Harry. He observed Bill's eyes were less bright and his whole form was more sunken than before. He knelt beside Tonks and Andromeda. The witches had done all they could. Ted was in the hands of luck and fate now.

"I could take him to the Burrow," Bill offered, shakily.

"Not the Burrow," Andromeda remarked. "That's too obvious. They'll be looking for Harry there."

"He's not going to die just to keep me safe," protested Harry. "We'll move him to the Burrow. I…I'll just go away and keep the Aurors and the Triads away…"

They seemed to ignore him.

"St. Mungo's?"

"It's too public."

"The Triads are after Harry, not Ted. They won't care where Ted is as long as Harry isn't with him."

"It's not just the Triads! The Order is compromised!"

"We've got no choice."

Tonks decided for all four of them. "Alright. St. Mungo's it is. Harry, take another swig of the Polyjuice. And grab on."

For this newly created taskforce to find and capture Harry James Potter, the Auror division had gathered their most experienced investigators into a large unused section of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's many floors. The walls, once with a pristine oak finish, was now tarnished with red markings ranging from theories of Potter's associates and plots, to likely safehouses and destinations. In a nearby corner, laid some notes suggesting, like his godfather, Potter, wanted for murder, would flee to Tibet. Others suggested Potter would go to ground and join up with the ragtag remnants of Death Eaters that scurried and hid in the shadows.

The search of Hogwarts turned up nothing, not a morsel of evidence or incriminating material. They had done nothing but earn the scorn of the interim Headmistress of the most reputable school in Britain. They had made inquiries into the family of Potter's close friend Ronald Weasley. What they found was a haunting house – bereft of warm and life. They found but one Weasley, the cursebreaker William Weasley, sitting solemnly in the kitchen as if dead himself. The Weasleys had vanished, he had told them.

Had they gone into hiding with Potter? Why? Did they not know this would be incriminating themselves? Or did Potter have them killed as well? Exacting some yet unknown vendetta on the large family of redheads? They then pursued one Hermione Granger, only to find the entire residence empty and not a soul to be found. This case was becoming stranger by the minute. Every lead offered more questions than it solved.

"He must be trying to cross the Channel," concluded Auror Keaton, his reputation as an Auror second only to Kingsley's. "It's the only thing that makes sense. We have too solid an extradition agreement with America for Potter to dare the Atlantic. And the boy's not stupid enough to stay in the country while Aurors are dogging his footsteps."

Kingsley cursed inwardly. For days now he had been slowly steering the course of the investigation away from the continent and across the ocean. It had worked with the Black case, but strong and direct input from Scrimgeour had immediately silenced that lead. Shaklebolt's sterling reputation was beginning to feel the heat as more of his attempts to move the investigation in a different direction were being stymied by Keaton and Scrimgeour.

"How would he cross the Channel?" Kingsley asked, putting up an unconvinced act. "His wanted poster has about as much public exposure as bloody Fudge. We've got surveillance outside of Gringotts so he can't access his gold. And he knows without those two things, anonymity and gold, he can't leave the country. I say we focus on Britain. There may be leads, specifically in Northern Ireland we might pursue."

"Kingsley," muttered Dawlish impatiently. "Look at the signs. Potter's gotten rid of all his close associates. He's preparing to disappear. And he's too widely known to just fall off the grid in this country."

Kingsley gritted his teeth and made no counter argument. First Burning Day and the loss of the Weasleys, then Dumbledore's arrest warrant, the attack on the safehouse and now the Aurors closing in on Harry. This threat was larger than any of them had ever imagined – and its far-reaching consequences were about to shape the coming fight.

The Triads.

Tonks had made claim that their attackers were indeed members of the Triads and Kingsley found it hard to disagree. But what were they after? Why did they want Harry? The boy had had no interaction with the Chinese – ever. But if the Triads were after him, Harry must have done something bad – really bad. Many years prior, he had been assigned to a joint-ICW investigative unit into disturbances in Malta. Killings, curses and chaos. It had been a hit, as far as they could determine, a bloody one involving a seedy kingpin dabbling into a far-reaching Veela-sex trade. It had been the work of the Triads – and for many years they had been the focus of Kingsley Shaklebolt's attention. They were dangerous, they were efficient, and they never did anything without a reason.

An unknown Chinese wizard had ventured into one of these shady establishments. According to sources now deceased, the kingpin had tried to blackmail this anonymous prominent figure. Four days later, the entire empire had been burned and the kingpin and his men were dead.

What has Harry done to have these people chasing him?

Kingsley had done what he could for Harry without raising suspicion on himself. The Order needed someone in the Auror division – especially with Tonks tied up as Harry's guardian. Now with Dumbledore wanted as well, the Order was so heavily crippled and so leaderless that members feared for its survival. Begrudgingly, Kingsley had stepped up to lead, but his work on Potter left little time for meetings with a secret society. He shouldn't have expected to be able to divert the very competent investigative minds of the Auror division. But it had worked with Sirius…

That's because everyone in the Division was scared shitless about Sirius. Potter's just a boy, someone who hasn't even done his OWLs yet…Kingsley mused.

"The Portkey office has sent out alert notifications to every Key provider in the country. But none of them will allow us to access their grounds and disrupt business unless we get warrants."

Keaton scoffed. "Getting the warrants is the easiest part. I swear, Malfoy will sign just about anything we tell him to sign."

"Except Key providers have armies of litigators that can challenge the grounds of the warrant. We've got to have at least probable cause for a warrant or else their lawyers will sue our pants off."

"King's Key Connections will be the likely point of escape," Kingsley spoke authoritatively. "Largest Key Provider in the country and it's publically owned."

The Aurors groaned. They all knew what that meant. Businesses under mom meant three things: underfunded, underpriced and understaffed. Therefore it was utterly teeming with an exhaustible supply of customers while the staffers received crummy wages and were overwhelmed with the demand of cheap transportation. With the chaos that was KK Connections, it would be all too easy for someone to slip through the security net.

Kingsley prayed Tonks would move quickly. Quantus Connections was the most expensive Key provider in the country. It would be last on the list of providers to search – especially when the criminal had no gold. Kingsley had had barely enough time to call in his last favors at Quantus to book them tickets under fake identities. On top of that, he'd had to cover for Tonks' absences. Gerald had been unconvinced that he'd made a clerical error and that Tonks was scheduled for vacation. Kingsley wished he hadn't needed to confound him.

Kingsley was the first to rise from his seat as he saw Rufus Scrimgeour, head of the division, enter the conference room. His fellow Auror's quickly followed suit. Scrimgeour gave a rough nod to them. The man always wore a thin grim frown and a face of stone. Though Kingsley could now see a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. Keaton began briefing Scrimgeour on their progress. Kingsley at the back of the large room, was softly approached by a senior Auror by the name of Bayes.

"What the hell is Scrimgeour doing with all this oversight?" he muttered unhappily. "He's managing our every move!"

Shaklebolt had dedicated much thought to this as well. Scrimgeour had been more than willing to use Auror resources to pursue all avenues of thought – and even encouraged some of the more outlandish theories. Never had the head of the department take such a personal involvement in a case – not even ones as large as the Black and Lestrange cases.

"Good," Scrimgeour replied at the end of the briefing. "I'll get the warrants for the Key providers."

Keaton spoke quickly. "Which ones sir? So far we think King's Key is a good shot, maybe Avalonia and Heckman…"

"All of them," Scrimgeour said sternly.

The entire conference room stared agape at their department head. All the Portkey providers? That was over thirty firms staffed by hundreds and hundreds of workers. This would require the entire department and then some. They'd have to knick enforcers from other divisions of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Searching all Key providers to find one boy? They'd have half the lawyers in the country in outrage and more than enough powerful businessmen against them.

"Sir, you can't mean…"

"All of them," Scrimgeour repeated with finality. "Two days. Prepare your men."

All of them…including Quantus…

Tonks and Harry's window of escape was closing. They had to move fast.

Bayes stared angrily at Scrimgeour's retreating figure. "Are you kidding me?" he whispered. "A nationwide search on all Key providers for one suspect? Does Scrimgeour know the mess that will cause? It's like he wants to get sacked!"

And then it dawned on Kingsley – the answer to Scrimgeour's aggressive and strange behavior. The motivation behind his boss' actions were clear cut and simple.

"He can't be sacked," Kingsley said slowly. "No matter what happens, the responsibility won't fall on him."

"Of course it will," snapped Bayes. "He's the goddamn department head. He's responsible for the division."

"Unless…" Kingsley continued. "Unless he received a directive from the Minister to pursue the case. In which case…whatever happens…it falls on Fudge."

Bayes paled. "Bloody hell. Is that what Scrimgeour's playing at? He's making as much chaos as possible to turn public opinion on Fudge? What the hell is his angle?"

"He wants Fudge's position as minister. And now that the personal directive from the Minister's office has inadvertently absolved him of responsibility, he's going to use the case as a means to cause as much public outcry as possible…make Fudge unpopular." Kingsley was speaking fast, the new dimensions of this play now on the brink of understanding. "Then…then when he thinks he's got enough support in Wizengamot…he might…he might…"

"File a motion of no confidence," finished Bayes. "Jesus…he doesn't even care about Potter! He's just using him to play power politics!"

Kingsley did not speak. His mind worked furiously to understand this. Scrimgeour would do everything in his power to catch Potter – and make it as messy and noisy as possible. Harry was now being pursued by one of the best Aurors in the country – one that now had a personal stake in the arrest. A motivated Scrimgeour with a vested interest, was every criminal's worse nightmare – that and a run in with Mad Eye Moody. Harry had become the centerpiece in a silent battle for the post of the Minister.

And how did Director Bones feel about this? The Auror division was technically under her department – although it had been granted much more autonomy than any other division in the government. Amelia Bones did technically outrank Scrimgeour, and would pass the buck up to her just as she would pass it up to Fudge. Kingsley knew she had eyes for Fudge's seat as well. DMLE directors had always been strong candidates in the past and Bones had a celebrated career without scandals or a dark mark on her record. Her beauty and strong rapport with the public would do wonders when election time came around again. Should she figure out Scrimgeour's play, who knows what would ensue?

"Fucking politics," muttered Bayes, walking off.

Kingsley nodded his head absentmindedly.

Fucking politics.

Harry sat numbly with Bill outside the emergency healing chamber while Healers were busy at work on Ted. Andromeda and Tonks were with him, watching tearfully as Ted fought for his life. Apparently the two witches had done wonders on the scene, and there was little left for the Healers to attempt besides more diagnostic spells. Nevertheless, Harry's nerves were on fire. He glanced over at Bill, his face seemed to be permanently etched in a grim look.

"Bill," he tried. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry about Grimmauld."

"Yeah," he spoke in a raspy voice. "Yeah, me too. There…there won't be any bodies for the funeral. It's like they just…disappeared and no one will ever know why. We can't let the Ministry know about where they were or else they would find out we were with Sirius Black and we'd all be branded criminals. I…I couldn't do that to my family's memory. For the rest of the world, it'll be like the Weasley family just went up and vanished into thin air – no one ever knowing the heroes they were."

"Bill," Harry spoke quietly. "Weren't you at Grimmauld?"

"Snape," muttered Bill. "He was just preparing to leave headquarters. He…he must have felt it before any of us because the next thing I knew, he had grabbed me by my robes and we both fell into the fireplace. The Floo collapsed on us partway through and Severus took the brunt of the punishment – it's bad."

Harry paused at this. Snape doing something heroic? Snape saving the Weasleys? Or at least one of the Weasleys…

"It just had to be me," Bill whispered hauntingly. "I was the eldest…I was responsible for them…and just because I was sitting closer to the bloody fireplace than Ginny or mum…I'm the one who survives. It's a cruel fate…" Bill stopped for a moment then turned his attention to Harry. "This is getting dangerous Harry. First my family –" he choked up at this. "And now Nym's family…and…Dumbledore."

Dumbledore?

"What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked sharply.

Bill looked at him sadly. "I just heard myself from the goblins. I couldn't believe it. I double and triple checked the paperwork, but whoever did this was good. It's completely genuine, legitimate timestamps and all."

"Bill, what happened?" Harry pressed.

"Dumbledore's being charged with embezzling gold from Hogwarts," Bill sighed.

Harry held a preposterous gaze with the lone Weasley.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill said tiredly. "I know…crazy right? But Gringotts has the financial transactions from their Brussels Bank. It's all there. According to McGonagall, Dumbledore was travelling right before the Order came in. No one knows where he is now, least of all mom. I know the charges aren't anything as grandiose as treason or murder, but he's being pursued as a criminal nonetheless. Wherever he is, I don't think he can help us right now. And I think that's exactly what they wanted."

Harry looked to the ground, panic quickly seizing him. Another ally gone. My list of friends grows shorter by the second. All my options are being taken from me. If I wait too long…soon I won't even have a choice in the matter.

This would not do. Harry knew he had to act. He had groveled in his own pathetic waste while the shadows worked ceaselessly. He gripped his wand tightly. There was no more time to waste. This last day with Tonks seemed almost a paradise. And now he had to jump back into the fray – in the screams and the fury.

"Harry…"Bill started. "Do you know what you're going to do?"

Harry wondered if Bill knew the implications of the question he asked. He opted for the easier answer.

"Sorry Bill," Harry spoke dryly. "There's still the spy to deal with."

Bill stood up had shot Harry a deadly look of horror. "Me? Me? You think I'm the spy? After everything I've lost?"

"No Bill," Harry sighed. He was surprised over how tempered his emotions seemed at the moment. "But you're part of the Order. And until you find the mole, it's safer for me if no one in the Order knows what I'm doing or where I'm going."

Bill looked at him strangely. "You're different Harry…"

"We all are," Harry mused.

Maybe me most of all.

"Ted'll be alright, Harry," Bill assured him. "He's taken the Felix Felicis."

Harry gave Bill a blank look. "It's the liquid luck potion – the most difficult potion to create in the world. Rumor has it there's only one living man who can concoct it. Not even Sna-"

Bill fell silent, choked with emotions. Harry sympathized with Bill.

He'll be okay. He's more a man than me.

Tonks soon emerged with her mother – pale but a bit calmer. Her natural beauty was less radiant and mired with worry. Harry rose and gave Andromeda a solid hug. Her trembling hands patted Harry's back.

"Oh Harry, dear, I'm sorry about all the trouble."

Harry shook his head at once. "Don't say that. It's...it's my fault. You two weren't even in the Order. You didn't need to do this but you did it anyway."

She gave him a thin smile as Tonks led them all to a spare room. Bill swatted the many white curtains aside while Tonks set up privacy enchantments. As they finished Andromeda sunk onto the bed with her daughter by her side.

"He'll live," Andromeda whispered. "It'll be a tough recovery…but he'll pull through."

"Thank god," Bill sighed. They all inhaled deeply. Bill voiced what they all were thinking. "We're still in danger." He glanced at Harry again. "Every moment Harry's here endangers Ted more. We've got to get him away."

For some reason this struck a nerve with Harry. He had never been too bothered when these sort of conversations had happened before – when they were all deciding what to do with him. But now…

I'm the master of my own life. I've got to choose.

"I've got to go," Harry decided. "Andromeda…you've done enough, and Ted too. I'll…I'll try and evade the Aurors and sort this out."

"Not alone you won't," Tonks spoke stubbornly – though her eyes betrayed her. She was undoubtedly terrified for her father.

Harry shook his head slightly. "Tonks…I can't make you just leave your dad…"

"I swore to keep you safe, Harry," Tonks replied. "No matter what, we're in this together now."

Harry shuddered at the thought of making a daughter depart a sick and grievously injured father. Though he did not deny the small comfort he had from Tonks' loyalty. Those past days of shouting and screaming in Godric's Hollow seemed so distant now – a lifetime ago.

"Bill," Tonks called. "The Order is compromised."

Bill nodded. "There's no way the Triads found our last safehouse by themselves. Someone told them…someone…"

"We can't trust the Order anymore," Tonks whispered, almost disbelievingly. "You've got to find whoever gave the Triads our location. I don't know how you're going to do it, but Harry and I are on our own until you do."

Bill ran his hand through his long red hair. "Any idea where to start?"

Tonks eyes hardened. "Kingsley," she hissed. "He's the only one from the Order to have made contact with the safehouse. Maybe he was looking to verify that Harry was still there…"

Harry realized this was not strictly speaking true. There had been another Order member at the safehouse, one that had ample time to observe Harry.

Tonks. But he did not mention it and buried it deep beneath more pressing thoughts.

Bill nodded again. He could sense that the more delicate plans could not be discussed with him present. He gave Andromeda a comforting hug and shot a caring look at Tonks. "Lets go for a walk Andromeda. Keep him safe, Nym."

Harry again felt inexplicably riled by how Bill was speaking of him.

The two of them left the room. Once again it was just Harry and Tonks. He took a seat next to Tonks. Four hours ago, everything was perfect – now the fires were roaring once more. Harry knew the question was coming.

"Well Harry," Tonks spoke quietly now. "We come to it at last. We've got to decide now. You have got to decide now. What are you going to do?"

I'm ready to answer this…I know I'm ready!

Harry stared at the ground abashedly. "Well…we…we need to regroup, maybe find Dumbledore. I need to get information on these Triads, who they are, who they're working for and why they want me."

"And you-know-who?" Tonks asked with her eyebrow raised.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Well…I better stay off the radar shouldn't I? I need to keep low and get information on the Triads without Voldemort or his Death Eaters catching wind of it."

"You're a wanted man," Tonks reminded him. "Staying off the radar is going to be exceptionally hard now that you need to evade not only the Death Eaters but all of magical Britain."

"Fine then," Harry pushed on, tapping his fingers in thought. "Then…then I should run. If I leave Britain, at least I know Voldemort won't follow me. He won't give up his plans on Britain just to chase me. I…I can separate the Triads and Voldemort and deal with them separately."

"Except now you're in a foreign country with no contacts with which to gather information or allies to guard you. And just because Voldemort will not leave the Isles doesn't mean he's above sending one or more of his Death Eaters after you. Have you ever tried international magical transportation? You being the criminal will sure to make an already complicated process even more gnarly."

"Damn it Tonks," he cried exasperatedly. "What do you want from me? Every choice I have seems to be a poor one. But I have to choose something!"

"Of course you do," Tonks spoke and her tone was surprisingly earnest and dear. "And that's the heart of the matter isn't it? You must do something, you must choose. Any of your suggestions we could work with and odds are they all have roughly the same chance of success. Slim to none. But you're the boy-who-lived. You've dealt with worse odds."

"I know this!" exclaimed Harry impatiently.

Tonks turned Harry's head to face her's. They were very close – uncomfortably close. He felt her breathing on his face, her eyes glowing with intensity.

"So then, Potter," she breathed. "You tell me, what are you going to do?"

The question resounded in his ears. But then it dawned on him that he had never truly been listening. He was answering the wrong question. Harry almost smiled as he gazed at the Auror, inches away from him. She was not asking him for plans or tactics or strategies or plots. The question was simple – yet he knew he could not give her false answer. She'd know straight away. All his plans, all his plots on what to do: regroup, run, fight, flee…they were all twigs from a greater branch. None would succeed if he didn't first truly, truly realize what he was going to do.

He locked eyes with her. In this instance he found something, something he thought he always had, yet now knew he was lacking in. There was a temperament in his bones, a resolve harder than diamonds. The concealments around it, he had ripped apart. And he saw it in himself – the will to go on. To go on no matter what. The boy had been tossed aside. His childhood was behind him. His hopelessness was quenched. His rage was veiled. And in its place, at the apex of his focus, stood determination, steely and shining. It would not sway even for the strongest of tremors. He felt it, in his very bones – he was ready. He was as ready as he ever would be. He was who he needed to be.

"What are you going to do Harry Potter?" she repeated.

His voice echoed the conviction of his mind. He still felt like he was in endless fall. But if he had to fall, then damn it he'd at least do so with a little grace.

Harry Potter found his answer.

"I am going to win."

The room was bathed in a hazy hue of red and gold – yet the red was tainted and the gold was malicious. The wide walls were adorned with a fresco depicting a mighty bird – wings the size of brooms. A golden bird against a midnight blue canvas. About the painting were many sculptures in bronze and gold and stone – all depicting the rise and fall of the mighty creature. The gilded ceiling was raised high, held by thick crimson pillars and the chamber was filled in an intoxicating scarlet mood.

"Cry for me," whispered the man in the corner. "Burn for me. Give me your wings – give me your fire. Release it to the world."

On his lap was a gangly creature – unrecognizable from what it had once been. Its slender form felt so dark and weak beneath the man's palms. He rubbed callous hands up and down the feeble thing – chanting to himself as he did so. It was unholy, an abominable act worthy of the devils of ancient times. He took no comfort in what he did but did not feel regret. The wheels were turning. More than a decade of planning would soon come to its glorious climax. He thought again to what he had done to the poor creature, it was a sickly and desirable sight. He had plundered from it all that was whole and pure in the world. And he'd do it again. It was an act of a monster. And he was a monster. But not just any monster. He was a Dragon. And he was ready for the fires of the phoenix.

"We've gotten word that the Aurors have been deployed. You handled the Thief well."

The mediator said nothing.

"I want you to know that your services are appreciated."

"Then give me it back!" the mediator hissed.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. I shall honour my side of the agreement when we finish the job. Now, where are you on Harry Potter?"

"Where are you on Harry Potter?" the mediator countered. "You did raid his safehouse didn't you?"

"He wasn't there. We verified that on site. Two of the residents managed to get away, but they're of no consequence to us. Potter is still abroad and we need him pinned. Did you succeed?"

"I…I spoke with one of the senior staff yesterday night," the mediator stammered. "The goblins are still debating among themselves. I'm certain they'll do it."

"They better," replied the man ominously. "And what is Shanghai saying?"

The mediator knew that this man – Wei – didn't care at all about what Shanghai thought of him. But he thirsted for knowledge so he could better outwit both his allies and his enemies.

"They are not happy that you haven't gotten Harry yet," she reported softly. "They say every day he's abroad draws more attention from our competitors. You did not make any friends with the French criminal network during the Triwizard affair."

"Last I checked, it was they who got greedy and disguised as your classmates. They don't have the nerve to go against us. We will find Potter eventually – it's just a matter of time. Our only concern is the Thief. And you've at least stalled him for the moment. Keep me updated."

"So…" spoke Andromeda softly.

She and Harry stood in a private room while Tonks and Bill were conversing outside. Her husband would mend – this alone was joy for the ages. But all too soon she would be parted with her daughter – her estranged daughter – but her daughter nonetheless. And it all revolved around this poor young boy.

"You're leaving," she stated.

Harry shrugged his shoulders grimly. "I've got to. Britain is not safe for me anymore."

"Any idea where?"

Harry only nodded. He had thought of little else. "Yeah, I've got somewhere in mind."

"Does Nymphadora know?"

Harry smirked gently. "Not yet. This plan is all me for the moment."

Andromeda stared at him for a long hard moment. "She found it you know – I can tell just by the way she now looks at you."

Harry raised an eyebrow weekly. "Found what?"

"Found what she was looking for. She found the man my cousin had promised. She found the man Dumbledore had nurtured. She found the man who can take his life into his own hands."

Harry looked sullen. "I'm just trying to stay alive at the moment."

"Nevertheless," Andromeda spoke. "I can see in your eyes what I had seen in Ted's, many years ago. Maturity, Harry, is a fickle thing. Some are blessed with it early. Others take the span of their natural lives and still never grasp it. But I see it in you. And so does my daughter. You're about to weave your own tale – you and I know how scary of a thought that is. We both know you're not going to run. You're going after the Triads."

Harry nodded. "At first…I wanted to do this for revenge. Then after that, I wanted to do this so I didn't have to think about…Grimmauld. But…as much as it still hurts, and as much as I miss them, this isn't about them. It's about me. I'm doing this because there's no one else to do it. It's my problem. And I'm the one who has to fix it."

"You've risen Mr. Potter," Andromeda said softly.

Harry noted her words carefully. She had said risen. It felt right, even if Harry wasn't entirely sure why. And Mr. Potter? This was the first time he had heard her say this without breaking into tears. It was strange and oddly appropriate. He was about to turn the page. The pen was in his hands and he was now writing the story.

Nymphadora had suddenly entered the room. Her hair was a dark pink. Harry expected it wouldn't be bright for many days to come. She mumbled that Bill had left.

"A minute with my mum, Harry?" she spoke. And Harry quickly exited the room.

He never saw the parting between mother and daughter, a mother rooted in Pureblood honor and pride with a daughter consumed by rebellion and unapologetic honesty. They were estranged, Harry knew. Perhaps it was Tonks' hair. Perhaps it was the dead lineage that Andromeda could never offer her daughter. But despite all differences, they were united by a feeling of decency and integrity. Traits which were wielded by the gentle Ted Tonks. Their parting was a long and solemn affair – the likes of which Harry would never know. Harry did not know when they would return. Perhaps never. And so these two Black women were united in their parting as they had been in their meeting, a simple muggle called Ted Tonks. Harry longed to speak to him one final time, to tell him that he would take care of his daughter, to tell him that Harry Potter, the Chosen One, strove to make this muggle proud. But Harry knew he didn't need to. Ted Tonks already knew all this – and perhaps that was what was so lovable about him. He would live and that was all that mattered.

Harry briefly reflected back to the cemetery at Godric's Hollow, and the pretty girl, Eleanor. He knew for a fact, he was not going back to Godric's Hollow – maybe never again. If there was one thing he would have wished to do, it would have been to talk to Eleanor one last time, to look into her face and tell her she didn't have to wear the hat any longer. Harry would thank this small girl that had helped him through his grief. As bizarre as she was, Harry accepted it – she was his friend, in a time where he needed one the most. Somehow, he knew in his heart he would never see Eleanor again. And he'd never get to say a proper goodbye or thank her. But Harry smiled. She would understand – she would understand perfectly what he had done and what he had yet to do.

Andromeda opened the door between her and Harry and gave him one final embrace, the one a mother gives a son before he's seen off to the world. Harry returned it and held it long. Everything had changed and would continue to change. These were the final moments of this act. A new one was already on the cusp of realization. She let go after what seemed to be minutes, and made her way back to her husband's side.

Harry found Tonks looking out of a window, her eyes red and puffy. She glanced at him and she smiled sadly, despite her tears and sorrow. Harry felt a surge of pride, yet he did not know from where it came.

"We're back in the thick of it now, as it would seem," Tonks mused. "One junior Auror and the Chosen-One versus all of Scrimgeour's division, the Death-Eaters and of course our dear Triad friends. Sounds bleak."

"Bleaker still when the Chosen One has no serious combat training and only knows rudimentary defensive spells and charms," Harry agreed humorously. "On top of that, I'm a wanted man, and we've lost your mum's Polyjuice store. This sounds like the worst idea ever doesn't it?"

Tonks laughed. "You've already done the hardest part already, Harry. What I just saw from you, that is what will keep you alive – not how many spells you can cast. You're more prepared than you think, Chosen One. Spells and charms come easy. But maturity? Not so much. So where to now Harry? We don't exactly have any leads to follow up on the Triads."

"Not quite," Harry retrieved the note that had been given to him moments before all this mess had begun. "Someone has been writing to me on this note. It saved my life. Somewhere out there, we have a friend."

Tonks took the letter and read it aloud. "Anywhere you think to go, they know. Do not stop running. Do not stay in Britain. Do not go to France. Do not stop running." She paused to register this and then looked back at Harry. "So what are we going to do with this?"

Harry smiled. "Of all places, the message said explicitly to avoid France."

"Makes sense if we're running away from them." Harry reasoned. "But I don't plan on doing a whole lot of running…"

Tonks slowly began to nod and her eyes brightened.

"You know," Harry said casually, "I don't think America would suit me."

Tonks smiled. "I have to admit, I'm a bit impartial about Seville. But I hear Paris is lovely this time of year."

Harry's wide grin told her all she needed to know. Despite all that happened, and all the fury they had against each other, she could not conceal the proud look on her face. Nor could Tonks hide the look of victory and sheer satisfaction. She grinned again.

This was the Harry she'd been waiting on.

Author's Note: A short chapter, I know. On the plus side, the pace will pick up significantly with Act II. We'll soon see Harry escape Britain and try to forge his own path. There he will endeavor to discover the goals of these Triads while being pursued by all manner of foes. The brunt of this adventure is ready to begin.