(A/N) Firstly, I'd like to say a massive thanks all those who took a look at my one-shot and reviewed it.

Also a GIGANTIC thanks to the people that made up the 250,000+ hits this story has. Secondly, I thought I'd say that I have about five in-progress separate stories unrelated to this one.

I need someone to write smutty pieces of chapters for one of them, contact and we can talk.

Harry woke slowly, having a slightly fuzzy feeling throughout his body from last night. He quickly noticed the bed was cold, indicating no Hermione.

"Mione?" He called, although, he was half asleep and it came out as "Mi-nee?"

Her head popped round the door to the bathroom, to see her beloved husband pat around the bed trying to locate her.

"Mmmm, Mi-nee?" She walked over to the bed and crawled in next to Harry to have his arms encircle her firmly.

"Love you, Mione," he murmured.

"I love you to, my sweet boy," she whispered back. Her only reply was for Harry to pull her closer.

They were asleep for another thirty minutes until they woke once more and washed, dressed and prepared for the day.

Harry smiled at his darling wife, "I'm sorry for what I said yesterday, Hermione."

"It's fine Harry. I'm sorry I reacted so strongly and pushed you away," Hermione replied, sadly.

"It was understandable, I re-opened old wounds,"

"Wounds that I should have told you about, so you would not have made that mistake," Hermione pursed her enticing lips. "I think we ought to be more open with one another, like have a good bit of pillow talk each night so we know each-other inside out."

"Great idea, love. Shall we begin tonight?"

"Yep!"

Downstairs in the Room of Requirement, Daphne and Tracey were waiting for Harry. They were ready to console him, to talk him into doing something so he wouldn't lose himself in his depression.

However when Hermione came down with Harry, and both sporting massive grins, there was an outburst from Tracey.

"Hermione Jane Pot-head! Do you know how much pain you caused Harry yesterday? He didn't EAT! He didn't TALK! He looked like someone who had been KISSED BY A DEMENTOR!" She took a breath. "He looked so lost without YOU by his side!"

Hermione closed her eyes and turned to Harry, her hands on her hips, "You didn't even eat or talk to our friends?" Her beautiful eyes softened. "I'm sorry."

"I am as well," Harry smiled. "Just promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't do it again."

"I promise," Hermione swore.

Tracey opened her mouth again, thankfully Daphne Potter, formerly Greengrass, was there to hush her friend up before Tracey said something she would regret later on.

"Where's Neville?" Hermione asked, noting the lack of their final group member.

"I think he is-"

"I'm here!" Neville exclaimed, his brown hair ruffled slightly and the baby-blue eyes of his shining brightly.

"Hey Nev, how are you?"

"Fine thanks, Harry. Yourself?"

"Peckish," Harry laughed. The proof came seconds later when his stomach rumbled irritably from it's emptiness.

"Let's go down for breakfast," Daphne said, smiling at her new brother.

The boys glanced at eachother before bowing and Harry intoned, "Yes, oh wise one." before quickly getting out of the way of a playful slap his new sister sent his way.

"Twerp," she shouted after him, sporting a massive grin that lit up her beautiful face.

Harry barked out a laugh and went back to Hermione's side, slid an arm round his wife's tiny waist and led the way to the Great Hall.

Harry and the crew ate a very delicious breakfast, a full English was something anyone could appreciate.

An unrecognisable bird flew down to deliver a letter.

Taking the letter carefully from it's leg and feeding it a little bit of sausage, Harry opened it.

He read:

Harry,

How have you been, pup? Haven't heard from you since term started, you bloody better not have forgotten me.

Anyways, remember those two girls from Gringotts? Yeah well, I'm their designated (and unofficial, for now) uncle as per their request. I would love for you to meet them, I think they need to be round people their own age for a while.

Perhaps a weekend?

Reply,

Padfoot

p.s. The bird bites if you don't reward it.

"Ow!" Daphne yelped as the owl pecked her, Daphne quickly shoved a piece of bacon for it to munch on.

"Does anyone have a quill and some ink so I can reply?"

"No, but..." Hermione waved her hand, mumbled something and conjured a quill and an ink pot.

"Thanks, beautiful," Harry kissed her inviting lips lovingly. Pulling away, she gave a seductive smile... her eyes seemed to say, 'later.'

Padfoot,

Alright you old fart, I didn't forget you, I've just been busy is all. Sorry I haven't owled you. Sounds fantastic! I'd love to meet my godfathers would-be nieces, and I'd be interested to find out how you managed to fly that one by aunt Am.

See yah soon!

Harry.

Harry whistled, calling the owl over. With the piece of bacon still hanging from it's mouth, it hopped over to him and held out a leg for him to tie the letter to, while it continued munching on the juicy bacon.

Harry finished tying the knot quickly and the owl finished the last piece of it's bacon. The bird took off and left the Great Hall.

No-one noticed the sausage in it's talons.

Harry looked at Tracey, "So... Pot-head?"

She frowned at him, grinning, "It was short notice alright?"

Harry and the others laughed. Soon other students began arriving until the Hall was bustling with the morning breakfast.

At 10:15, when everyone had eaten their fill, Mcgonagall rose from her usual chair at the staff table; clearly she was going to-

"I have an announcement to make, a few things that need to be addressed." Mcgonagall started.

"With the departure of headmaster Dumbledore and Severus Snape, Hogwarts is lacking two members of staff."

"Potions will be cancelled until next Monday, pending the arrival or our new potions master, someone many of you will be familiar with; the world-renowned teacher, Jonathan Harper."

"With that sorted, the problem of the headmaster position remains."

A student called out, "You, professor!"

"That's very kind of you, but I rather think-"

Someone else shouted, "You, professor!" The school followed and soon most of Hogwarts' student body was calling for her to be Headmistress.

"Calm down!" When they quietened she continued, "Now, I'll take your choice of my being headmistress and send it off the the School Governors to decide. Thank you."

Harry smiled at his friends, "How about that, eh? Mcgonagall for Head, seems like a pretty smart choice to me."

"Indeed."

"Yeah, does sound rather interesting."

Grindelwald had located him. Located the one who called himself 'Lord Voldemort,' and was silently keeping record of the house.

It hadn't been easy, the multiple layers of warding around this Manor, which one was it again? He silently questioned, the multiple layers from the many wizards who visited the place made it a very tough nut to crack.

But he had cracked it, at least for now; they could add more wards he'd need to get through. He had managed to key himself into the wards without having to take the Dark Mark.

He quietly began planning his course of action.

Grindelwald sent a pulse of magic throughout a ten mile radius, reaching out for any serious potential threats.

He found a cluster of magic users slowly making their way closer; two of their number caught his attention.

One had some sort of beast locked inside him that was itching to be released, and the other had so much dark magic embedded in his skin that he was darker than most death eaters.

There were a few in the Manor, but they could be dealt with. They wouldn't be to much for someone like him to handle.

He wondered how his Dragon Tamers were doing.

"SHIT! Mind that fire," one screamed.

"FUCK, it almost got me! Dumb beast!" Another shouted, fear lacing his voice.

"Ughh, we had to get involved didn't we?" Someone else grumbled.

"Look on the bright side, with us in control of these Dragons, we can bring them to that tri-wizard tournament over at Hogwarts. It would be a good opportunity to cause damage and wreck havoc." A six foot four inches, bald-headed man said.

"Woo hoo," One man replied enthusiastically.

"Then the relations between the British Wizarding World and the Romanian Wizarding World will collapse in a heap, and governments will have to take sides." Another guy laughed.

"And that's when it really begins."

"Careful lads, that Weasel is coming back." He laughed suddenly.

"What is it?"

"Never mind."

Remus Lupin, who had been searching for Lucius Malfoy for nearly two days, was getting tired. It was gruelling having to work himself so hard, even with the strength and stamina that came with the infected werewolf.

He hadn't slept, eaten or drank in the past days. It was ridiculous, stupid, of him to push himself so hard. But he had found Alastor Moody, an old friend and a mentor to anyone who he saw promise in, and a group of aurors.

Who were also trying to locate the elusive Mr Malfoy, and doing as well as he was- not too good.

Failing miserably, they were, but no-one had ever accused Alastor of being a quitter. It was said that sometime during the First Blood War he hunted half a dozen death eaters for six months until he finally caught and killed them. Perseverance and determination in it's prime.

Moody wouldn't have changed a bit, not in the slightest. It was ingrained in the Master auror, the will to continue and battle through the odds.

He had been doing this since he was twenty, he was now sixty five- a prime age for wizards and witches alike. But the scars and injuries were beginning to add up; he'd lost half his face, his leg, he had numerous scars adorning his body from torture or random spellfire, he had metal plates in his arm and neck. The skele-grow hadn't worked due to the dark magic, so the healers had tried something else.

It was surprising that he doesn't constantly set off the Dark Magic Detectors in the Ministry, what with all the curses and crap that had been heaped on him. But they all knew it was Moody, no-one had gotten the drop on him since he was thirty-five.

Which was why when he felt a powerful wave of magic pulse around him, he felt it and the others barely noticed it. It seemed to single out himself and the werewolf, Remus Lupin- a former pupil of his. They were both the most dangerous of the group of aurors. Lupin's stamina gave him a huge advantage in battle; when others would collapse in exhaustion, he would have barely broken a sweat.

Thing was he recognised the magical signature; someone from a very long time ago. Almost to old for him to remember, since he had only come into contact with the man once and it was when he was at the tender age of... can't remember, he thought. At the tender age of ten to fifteen. It had been brief, but hell did it open his eyes to the power and possibilities that the one man had.

It was the same man Dumbledore had defeated, a victory that had Dumbledore on top of the Wizarding World for decades afterwards.

Grindelwald, and the thing is, is that Moody could track him.

"Lupin, did you feel that?"

The younger man laughed, "How could I not? Everyone could feel it." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the group of aurors who currently had their wands in their hand looked ready to do battle.

"What was that, sir?" One of them asked, Dylan was his name if Moody wasn't mistaken.

"That was what is called a Magical Pulse. A magic user, if powerful enough, can send a wave of their magic to encompass an area of their choice and be able to... sense any other beings in the vicinity. It can, again if the user is strong enough and their intent is to find out, judge the threat levels of said people. There is a side effect that few know of, however, and that is if the people inside the wave of magic can sense it and in rare cases, track it."

"So basically, if you're on the receiving end you can track it?"

"Yes, but only few can master it?"

Remus looked at Alastor funny, "Have you?" He questioned.

Moody smirked, "No, but I have enough knowledge of its use to track it back to the source. The years of using it on Death Eaters come in handy."

Another auror, one Mr. Davies inquired, "Did you track it?"

"I did." Moody confirmed.

"Who is it?"

An internal conflict emerged in the old Master auror, he could tell them; in which case there would be an outpouring of rejection to the idea that one of the most powerful Dark Lords in history had indeed returned. Or he could not and let them go in unprepared, but they could see first hand without him saying. Then there was the option of telling most the truth, just not revealing it all.

It was, he decided, the best course. "I can't quite be certain of the Signature, but I can say that it is old, , powerful and, most importantly, dark."

Remus could feel that Moody knew more than he was letting on, but felt positive that if Alastor didn't want to say it; it was for a good reason. "Should we go after it?"

Moody made a face conflicting with indecision, "I am unsure. On one hand, if we extinguish the threat it is one less thing for us to worry about. But we are likely to lose many of our number in the process, I'm not sure if one life is worth what may be more than two dozen of ours."

"How powerful can one person be?"

"He is not one to be trifled with, judging by the strength he emitted."

"Could he beat all of us? There are many of us and only one of him."

A cloaked, wraith-like figure emerged from the forest, "Why don't you ask me, yourself?" Everyone tensed.

(A/N) That's that done. I have the next chapter nearly ready and I'll be uploading it soon. Perhaps a week or two.

Yeah, I made up an age for ol' Moody. Hope no-one minds, or if someone actually has his proper age, I would love to know it. I appreciate the reviews more than people know, it truly makes me happy to see and KNOW people are enjoying my story.

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