Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything what you can recognize from the books. I do however own the plot of this story but I don't have profits because of it unless you count improving my English as a profit.
I really have to give myself a pat on the back I posted three chapters in a matter of nine days. Yay me! Enough of my enthusiasm. Let me tell you what had happened after Snape left Walburga and Ha... Homam.
Pardon me for stopping but you really ought to know that I reposted first chapter (prologue) of this story in DH compliant version hintSnapehint. As for chapter one ... got to love the Blacks.
Chapter one: Everyone in the Family.
Walburga spent most of her first real day as a grandmother on the floor in Homam's bedroom. They were playing with Sirius' and Regulus' old toys. At first she had to encourage the boy, because he seemed to be afraid of touching the toys. She figured it had something to do with him spending the last few weeks at his aunt's house and she mentally muttered a list of epithets that would make a sailor blush from embarrassment. She spent nearly two hours to talk Homam into taking a small puffy dog, Sirius' childhood mascot. By lunchtime the boy seemed to get over his shyness a little and started playing on his own.
When suppertime approached, she took him to the kitchen and observed him during his meal. He ate everything she put in front of him. She refilled his plate and watched as he once again polished it off. It was painfully obvious that he didn't get much food in last few weeks.
For a moment she was tempted to return to Little Whinging and curse the Dursleys into the next century. However, it would probably result in her going to Azkaban, so she supressed the urge for Homam's sake.
Suddenly the flames in the fireplace turned green and someone appeared through it. It was a tall and curvy, blackhaired female. Walburga pulled out her wand, pointing it straight at the woman's head.
"Walburga, why didn't you come to the Prewetts Christmasparty with Lucretia and Ignatius, they were ex..." aunt Cassiopeia demanded, as she turned around to face Walburga and upon seeing Homam, she fell silent. "... pecting your presence," she finished after a second.
"I was otherwise occupied, aunt Cassie," Walburga replied quickly.
"I see ... It's not your child, is it?" Cassiopeia questioned.
"Technically he is mine," Walburga said.
"Oh ..." Cassiopeia sighed. "How did this come about? I mean, you're fifty-six and the flowers on Orion's grave grew quite high. Unless you acquired a ... beau ... though your father won't be very delighted about it," Cassiopeia suggested nervously.
"I don't have a kept lover , aunt Cassie. It's my grandson," Walburga assured her.
"Your grandson?" Cassiopeia's voice was weak. "But how ... The child doesn't look older than two years and Regulus ... I think we would know, if he wasn't dead ..." she murmured. "Unless ... it's his son?" her eyes widened in shock.
"Yes, it's his son," Walburga confirmed.
"Knowing him, it's probably a filthy half-blood," Cassiopeia uttered derisively.
"But the pure half comes from the Black family, therefore it should make up for that other part, don't you think, aunt Cassie?" Walburga asked sweetly. "I'd say, the family is prominent enough, and heirless as Melvin Gamp on his deathbed, to accept Sirius' son as the heir apparent ... unless Narcissa and Lucius suddenly switched their sexes and Draco received the surname Black instead of Malfoy."
"I'm sure that we could find an heir, if we really tried ..." Cassiopeia exclaimed.
"How?" Walburga inquired sarcastically. "Druella and Cygnus won't ever expect a child at all, as we both know. Druella ensured that Cygnus won't father any children, even if he wanted to. Arcturus became too disgusting even for Melania, besides, Melania would take care that the person to come up with such an idea would suffer greatly. Alphard is dead and so are Orion, Regulus and uncle Marius ... there is no one left."
"Still ..." Cassiopeia protested.
"You can argue all you like, Homam is my grandson and I don't care, what you and the family think about it," Walburga informed her firmly.
"Where is his mother?" Cassiopeia requested with disdain in her voice.
"Six feet underground," Walburga replied sternly. "Car accident."
"Oh," Cassiopeia sighed. "How old is he?"
"Seventeen months. Born at the 1st of August 1980," Walburga told her.
"He looks just like little Sirius," Cassiopeia stated, as she examined the child closely.
"Of course he does, he is his son for Merlin's sake," Walburga exclaimed.
"Are you keeping him?" she asked suspiciously. "Really keeping him?"
"Yes!" Walburga affirmed.
"Well then ... I need to talk to the family," Cassiopeia uttered irritably.
"Then go and talk," Walburga huffed.
"I'm going," Cassiopeia concurred with a heavy sigh.
"Give them my love," Walburga muttered as Cassiopeia picked up the Floo powder and threw it into the fire.
"7, Park Road," Cassiopeia called and disappeared into the flames.
She shot out of the fireplace, almost falling flat on her face, barely avoiding her head hitting the mantlepiece. Arcturus needed a bigger fireplace, unless he wanted all his guests to receive a nasty bump on their forehead every time they visited by floo.
"Mel! Archie!" she called out as she whiped the dust from her cloak.
"We are in the kitchen, Cassie!" Arcturus' voice carried through the house.
She followed the sound and found her cousin sitting at the kitchen table, playing cards and drinking tea with his wife. They smiled upon seeing her, but stayed seated.
"Starshine," Arcturus commanded. Immediately an old house-elf appeared at his side and bowed her head. "Prepare a cup of tea for Cassiopeia."
"Send her off to Pollux and Irma. As well as to Cygnus and Druella and Lucretia and Ignatius. Walburga has officially gone mad," Cassiopeia announced, as she sat down at the table and glanced at her cousin.
"I thought, she was mad to begin with," Arcturus grumbled, before he turned to the house-elf and ordered, "Do as mistress Cassiopeia asked, Starshine. When you are back, prepare supper for all of us."
The elf bowed and with a crack a cup of tea, as well as a small bowl of sugar, appeared in front of Cassiopeia.
"No milk as usual?" asked Arcturus.
Cassiopeia nodded. Milk made her sick ever since she remembered. She dropped a spoonful of sugar into her mug and stirred the tea.
Suddenly there was a loud thud, followed by quite a colourful curse, "Fix that bloody fireplace, Archie!"
"Keep your head down while leaving it, Pollux," Arcturus called out.
Pollux' grumbling came closer and soon Cassiopeia saw her older brother and his wife. She was about to greet them, when she heard another thud and a voice swore, "For Merlin's sake, father, get this fireplace fixed before someone loses a head!"
"Good evening to you too, Ignatius!" Artcurus retorted and finally put the cards on the table face down.
Another hollow noise indicated that Cygnus had appeared. Unlike the others, he didn't curse the fireplace.
Cassiopeia smiled grimly at that, Arcturus' hearth always left a nasty swelling on the head of anyone in the family, who happened to be taller than five feet and ten inches. Cassiopeia, Pollux, Cygnus, Ignatius and during the old times Orion, all happened to be taller than five feet ten. Cassiopeia, Pollux and Cygnus were five feet and eleven inches tall and Ignatius and Orion were six feet tall. The women of the Black family, other than Cassiopeia that was, except maybe Cassiopeia's deceased younger sister Dorea, happened to be somewhat between five feet and four inches like Irma, and five feet and nine inches like Lucretia. Therefore, they usually stayed unscratched when stepping out of the fireplace.
In the meantime, the kitchen filled with three married couples. Cassiopeia's brother and his wife Irma, their youngest son Cygnus and his wife Druella and of course Arcturus' daughter Lucretia and her husband Ignatius.
"So, what happened?" asked Pollux curiously.
"According to your sister, your only daughter went mad," Arcturus announced factually and then added, "Let's go to the diningroom. We will be interrupting Starshine in the preparation of supper, if we stay here."
"Why do you care about the house-elf?" questioned a surprised Druella.
"Fine, we can remain here, but if you get hit over the head by a flying fryingpan, don't blame Starshine," Arcturus sighed.
It prompted the others to comply with the move to the adjoined dining-room, where they all sat down at the table.
"Come on Cassie, spill the beans," Arcturus prompted her.
She took a sip of her tea and swallowed it, before she set the cup on the table and spoke with hesitation, "Remember that Wally was supposed to make an appearance with Lucy and Ignatius at the Christmasparty of the Prewetts?"
"She didn't show up," Lucretia accused. "Didn't explain. On the other hand, she wasn't exactly normal since Regulus died and then Orion, too. Sirius' imprisonment probably didn't help either."
"Speaking of Sirius," Cassiopeia inserted, "Wally somehow found out that Sirius had a bastard son with a muggle girl."
"What's the problem?" Druella commented rudely, "Why should we care?"
"You should care, because Wally took the child in. I saw him," Cassiopeia enlightened her. "As far as cuteness is concerned, that he is. Almost a carboncopy of his father, though maybe a little shyer."
"What about the boy's mother?" Ignatius threw in.
"Dead, car-accident," Cassiopeia reported. "Or so I heard. She intends to keep the child."
"She is insane!" Irma exclaimed.
"My thoughts exactly," Cassiopeia agreed.
"Does she want him to become the heir apparent?" Druella wondered in shock.
"Probably," Cassiopeia surmised.
"She can't do that!" Druella protested. "Draco should be the heir. He is the only child in the family."
"Last time I checked, Draco's surname was still Malfoy," Ignatius declared.
"What you mean?" Druella proved to be a little slow on the uptake.
"Correct me, if I'm wrong," Ignatius turned to Arcturus. "According to family decrees settled in the Middle Ages, all inheritance will be handed down the direct line to the next male with the surname Black."
"That's the code," Arcturus concurred.
Ignatius stood up from the table and started circling the room, as he continued, "According to the Black family code ,only the heir apparent can appoint another heir, who isn't a male Black. Since Regulus was childless and predeceased Orion, the only male, being Orion's descendant, is Sirius, our prisoner of Azkaban," Ignatius paused, letting the words sink in. When it was certain that everybody realised what Ignatius meant, he proceeded, "Since Sirius is alive and not childless, the only male heir with the surname Black, who will receive the inheritance, is Sirius' only son."
"It's outrageous!" Druella exclaimed, her face contorted in anger.
"Maybe it is, but it certainly is legal, too," Ignatius stated and scratched his head.
"I'm with Ignatius," Arcturus agreed with a heavy sigh. "I might not appreciate the fact that the child is a half-blood, but he is the heir apparent, whether we like it or not."
"Narcissa won't be happy," Cygnus muttered.
"Narcissa has the Malfoy family's fortune," Ignatius replied. "There's no need worry about Draco."
"I won't permit a mudblood to take the complete inheritance of my only grandson!" Druella yelled hysterically, making a spectacle of herself.
"Then you can blame yourself for not bearing Cygnus a son, Druella," Melania slammed her fist on the table so hard, it made the others cringe.
"Mother is correct," Lucretia admitted calmly. "We 'll have to deal with ... what's his name, Cassie?"
"Homam," Cassiopeia answered.
"Lucky star of a hero, huh?" Arcturus asked with a raised eyebrow. "Sirius had some nerve to name the boy such."
"At least it is a star," Cassiopeia rebuked him. "I didn't ask for details, but I certainly upset Wally greatly before I left, so I suggest not visiting her today."
"That's settled then," Arcturus wrapped up the discussion solemnly. "Lucy, you and Ignatius are going to visit her tomorrow. Keep a low profile and try to weasel some information from her. For now, let's eat. My nose is telling me that Starshine prepared her delicious roast chicken with steak filling."
Walburga awoke not feeling rested at all. Cassiopeia came by the day before and it was only a matter of time until the whole family decided to pay her a visit and read her the riot act for keeping Homam. They probably thought she would be persuaded easily. Not bloody likely.
She put on her dressing-gown and went to Homam's bedroom. He was still sleeping deeply so she decided to leave him be and ask Kreacher for a cup of hot cocoa before breakfast. She would need a lot of strength dealing with the family.
The 27th of December usually was a workday at the Ministry, no matter whether Cassiopeia liked it or not. Her head was throbbing slightly. She knew, she shouldn't have drunk four goblets of wine yesterday, but nevertheless she had done just that.
She gave a small nod to the guard and went towards the elevators. The hall was pretty empty. For most Ministry workers it was still too early to make an appearance. She pushed the button and waited for the cabin to arrive. The golden grille slid back and she stepped in.
"Hold the elevator!" someone called from behind.
Cassiopeia turned around and put her hand against the grille. She didn't like waiting for the elevators, especially if one of them managed to get away straight from under her nose. Whoever it was, seemed to dislike it just the same.
The person who called out, was a young woman with long, curly, jet-black hair and judging by the design of her cloak an auror. She was charging down the hall with a speed only young people seemed to possess. She jumped into the cabin and nearly slammed against its wall.
"Thank you," she breathed out as the grille slid shut.
"Level Two, I presume?" Cassiopeia asked.
The auror confirmed and Cassiopeia pushed the buttons numbered two and five, her own destination.
"Running late?" Cassiopeia inquired politely.
"Actually not," the auror disagreed. "But I need to pick something up from my department before I check levels three and six."
"Rough case, I see," Cassiopeia noted with a sympathetic gesture.
"You have no idea, madam," the auror sighed. "Harry Potter's kidnapping."
Cassiopeia's eyebrows shot up to her hairline when hearing that. Certainly, she, like the rest of the family, sided more with the Dark Lord because of blood purity, but then again since the Dark Lord was gone, life seemed entirely less stressful. Who, in the name of Merlin, dared to kidnap the child that stopped the Dark Lord?
"I have no idea who did it and how, since the only evidence I managed to gather, is that his so called family is a bunch of despicable scum, who treated the poor boy like a badly behaving animal," the auror huffed angrily.
"What did they do?" Cassiopeia asked, her curiousity spurred.
"They kept him in a cupboard under their staircase. Didn't get much food either. I set the muggle Child Service on their case and produced evidence, that'll put them in prison for the next few years. They deserve it. You should see their own child, an attention seeking brat with the size of a whale, actually tried to bite me when I was interrogating his parents. Tried to steal a bottle of wine from my bag, too," the auror grumbled.
"How on earth ..." Cassiopeia started but the auror cut her off.
"I was doing some shopping on my lunch break when I got called away. Didn't have a chance to drop my bag at the Ministry," she explained.
The elevator stopped on level six and the grille slid open. Auror Melvin Prewett, a distant relative of Ignatius, stepped inside and upon seeing them, his face brightened.
"Mirzam Verascez," he acknowledged his colleague. "Mrs Black," he nodded to Cassiopeia. "It's good to see you here so early, Mirzam. How is the case?"
"Crappy," Auror Verascez admitted. "I haven't found anything other than the fact that the family was abusing the boy."
"But you have suspicions?" Melvin prompted.
"A few," Mirzam answered. "I need to check them, but not before I visit levels three and six. Is Crouch in his office?"
Melvin shook his head, "Not yet. But he should be here in about half an hour. Want something from him?"
"A pass," she stated.
"For Azkaban?" Melvin asked.
Verascez confirmed with a grimace as the grille slid open again and the voice announced level five.
Cassiopeia bid them good-bye and stepped off the elevator.
Mirzam Verascez was feeling completely drained. After dropping her bag off in her cubicle, she went to level three, where she quizzed the staff of the muggle-worthy excuse committee and a few members from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. After two hours of interviews she went to level six, where she questioned members of the portkey office and floo network authorization. This took up another hour and when she was done, she went to meet with her superior Bartemius Crouch sr, head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement.
The meeting with Crouch was a disaster. It almost resulted in a shoutingmatch between them about her getting a pass for Azkaban to question the prisoners. Finally, she managed to extract the promise for a permit, that would allow her to interrogate one particular prisoner inside his cell without the presence of Dementors.
She knew it was a hard bargain, but it would be easier to weasel out certain information that way. Though recognizing that her request might put her in danger, she also realized, that she was a capable auror and could handle Sirius Black on her own.
'Don't even go there, Mirzam,' she told herself.
Pondering Sirius Black made her blood boil ever since the truth about him came to light. She used to work with him. She even had been his bloody partner. Being an auror, she should have recognized the signs, but no ... she let him charm her with his wicked sense of humour and quick wit. She had practically been blind. If she had exercised more caution, maybe this whole ruddy mess wouldn't have occurred and maybe the Potters would still be alive and kicking. She had failed completely.
She was quite happy, when she found out that she was going to lead the investigation of Harry Potter's kidnapping. It was personal revenge and atonement for her own failure both as an auror and a friend. She would find out who took the boy and she would make sure that whoever did, would regret it very effing much.
She was irritated like a tickled dragon and snapping at anyone who approached her. She was tired, hungry and what she had done till now, didn't help the wretched case at all.
She needed food, unless she wanted to collapse sometime soon. Lots of it, too. Full of carbohydrates and fat. She needed to continue and find out as much as she could before visiting Azkaban tomorrow.
She grabbed her bag, announced to the secretary that she was leaving for lunch and went towards the elevators. She waited for one to arrive and entered. Fortunately it wasn't crowded. When she reached level number five, the grille slid back and a familiar figure joined her.
"Good afternoon, Mrs Black," she sighed.
"Good afternoon, dear," Cassiopeia Black replied. "Case still not going too well?"
Mirzam confirmed, there was no use in denying that she was stuck.
"Going for another interrogation?" Cassiopeia asked.
"Actually lunch," Mirzam admitted. "Thinking on an empty stomach makes one start running in circles."
"Are you going to the small Italian restaurant around the corner?" Cassiopeia inquired curiously.
Mirzam affirmed.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all, Mrs Black," Mirzam shook her head.
Cassiopeia liked Pablo for a very good reason. They had the most wonderful spaghetti, she ever ate. When her and Mirzam took a seat at one of the empty tables, both ordered spaghetti Bolognese with some iced tea and shared small smile.
"Best spaghetti ever?" Cassiopeia asked.
Mirzam nodded as she started playing with her napkin and suddenly the smile disappeared from her face, before she blurted, "We used to come here quite often after nightduty was over. We used to sit at that small table in the corner over there and chat until the service asked us to leave."
"Your partner?" Cassiopeia asked concerned. "Someone killed him or her?"
Mirzam squeezed the napkin so hard that her knuckles turned white. She glanced towards the door before she grimly implied, "Worse."
"How so?" curiousity overwhelmed Cassiopeia.
"He sold his friends to You-Know-Who," Mirzam spoke quietly and squeezed the napkin even harder. "If that wasn't enough, he chased after one of his other friends, murdering him and twelve innocent people in broad daylight."
That scenario sounded rather familiar. Too familiar for Cassiopeia's comfort. She remembered, that Sirius, before being sent to Azkaban, used to be an auror. Could it be, that the woman sitting in front of her was his former partner?
"Was his name Sirius Black?" Cassiopeia couldn't help but ask and looked at the woman intently.
Mirzam nodded, but the nod was so small, that hadn't she expected to see it, she wouldn't even have recognized it.
"I was on a conference in New York when it happened. Couldn't quite believe it, when I was told," Mirzam whispered. "I should have seen it coming," she sighed heavily. "But I didn't. I was the one he spent most of his time with and I let him trick me like he tricked the rest of the world. Caring friend, good auror, bastard."
"Don't blame yourself, dear," Cassiopeia comforted her, as she reached across the table and enveloped Mirzam's hands with hers. "Nobody had recognized the signs."
"Somebody should have," Mirzam muttered. "That filthy, little rat ... if I could get my hands on him ..." her voice trailed off.
"Madness finally caught up with him," sighed Cassiopeia. "Just like with his mother. She practically disowned him and two days ago she brought his bastard son home with full intentions of raising him. Cute boy, seventeen months old. Named Homam as far as I remember."
"I didn't know he had a son," Mirzam noted disconcerted.
In the meantime, the waiter had served their lunch. Both women started eating. Actually Cassiopeia ate, while Mirzam pushed the pasta around on her plate with an expression on her face, that told Cassiopeia the young woman was aggravated like a female dragon who had just laid her eggs and would roast anyone in her vicinity with her breath.
Suddenly she heard someone call out Mirzam's name. The voice came from the door and when Cassiopeia turned to see who it was, she was surprised to see her former transfiguration professor, Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, dressed in a muggle suit, approached their table. Stopping in front of it and glancing down at Mirzam, who was still more interested in stabbing her lunch than anything else, he reprimanded her in a severe tone, "You shouldn't have done that, Ms Verascez. You have no idea how long it will take to clear the mess you've created."
"Pardon me?" Mirzam asked coldly, as she stopped assaulting her lunch and stared at Dumbledore.
She still looked seriously vexed.
"You set the Child Service on the Dursleys," Dumbledore accused her.
"Indeed, I did," Mirzam snapped. "So what? They got what they deserved."
"When Harry Potter is retrieved, he will have to return to their residence. The protection ..." Dumbledore started but Mirzam interrupted him.
"Your bloody protection is bloody void!" she rebuffed his argument. "Had it been working, I wouldn't be on this dratted case. Don't you realise that?!" she slammed her fist on the table so hard the fork tumbled to the floor.
"It ..." Dumbledore started again.
"Don't you dare do anything about the Dursleys. They received justice well served. They treated the boy worse than an animal and yet you have the audacity to waltz in here and instruct me to take him back to these rabid idiots, when I locate him! Mr Dumbledore, you are delusional! I will sooner adopt him myself than let them touch him again!" Mirzam bellowed as she pulled herself into full hight, quite impressive six feet.
"Mi..." Dumbledore tried for the third time and for the third time was cut off by an angry Mirzam.
"Listen, you old codger," she growled and pointed her finger at his chest. "If you start covering up the mess and find a way for Harry Potter to return to his abusive relatives, I swear on my parents bones that I will find you, no matter what, no matter where and I'll definitely kill you! Slowly and painfully!"
"M..." Dumbledore set out, but once again hadn't a chance to finish.
"And I will go to Azkaban willingly, with a lighter heart!" Mirzam snarled. "The boy will not suffer by his relatives hands once more as long as I'm alive!" she proclaimed, grabbed her bag and left after pushing Dumbledore out of her way.
Cassiopeia watched her leaving and when the door banged shut behind her with a loud noise, she turned to face her former professor and stated, "I like this girl. Has one hell of a backbone and a nice temper, too."
"You have no idea," Dumbledore sighed.
"If I were you, Mr Dumbledore, I would kept her warning in mind. She looked like she meant business," Cassiopeia emphasized and turned back to her lunch.
At the same time, while Cassiopeia was at Pablo's with Mirzam, Walburga was having lunch with her guests. As suspected, Lucretia and Ignatius appeared during lunchtime and kept pestering her about Homam.
Walburga, not doubting the family had elected them as spies, kept her answers to a necessary minimum. She was rather surprised when, after lunch was over, Lucretia requested to see her grandnephew.
Walburga took a minute to seriously consider the possibilities, before she agreed grudgingly, thinking, if Lucretia tried anything she could hex her into the next century.
She lead Ignatius and Lucretia upstairs, prepared for any sort of reaction warring from derogatory names to actual strangling, but never had she expected it to be of the kind that actually occurred.
As soon as Lucretia saw Homam, playing peacefully with his toys, she went over to the child, sank to her knees in front of him and started making those god-awful, cooing tones most childless women made when confronted with one. The noise, as expected, scared Homam and he started crying.
Walburga was about to rush over and appease him, when Ignatius walked past her and picked him up. He hugged the bawling boy and started soothing him. Homam seemed to calm down a bit and stopped crying at last.
"Hey, little boy," Ignatius said with his voice warm and sympathetic. "No need to be scared of aunt Lucy. She just wanted to say hello."
Homam looked at him thoughtfully, then at still kneeling Lucretia, before he mumbled nervously, "Hello, aunt Lucy."
Lucretia stood up, extended her hand to Homam and serenely said, "Hello, Homam."
"Will you come with him to Park Road in the evening?" inquired Ignatius.
"Why?" Walburga was astonished.
"The family wants to see him," Lucretia answered. "Mother and father certainly do. Yours are more wary and so is Cassiopeia. Cygnus and Druella probably won't show up, Dru threw a hissy fit yesterday, when father agreed with Iggy that Homam might be the heir apparent."
"Do I have to?" Walburga sighed heavily.
"If you don't come to Park Road, we will come here," stated Ignatius factually. "If the mountain will not come to Mohamed, Mohamed must go to the mountain."
"You and your fascination with muggle proverbs," Walburga sighed.
"Two blacks won't make a white, Wally," Lucretia snickered.
"They won't," Walburga admitted. "But two Blacks can make a lot of noise and scare my poor grandson."
"So, will you come?" asked Lucretia.
"Is six o'clock fine?" Walburga conceded in defeat.
"Should be," Lucretia agreed.
Mirzam felt like bashing something. Preferably someone's head. As if musing about Sirius didn't upset her enough, Dumbledore had the temerity to waltz into Pablo's and interrupt her meal, which she didn't eat after all. She meant every single word she told him. She would rather take in the child herself and raise him, even though she hadn't known James and Lily Potter well, still, she would make a better guardian than the Dursleys, who took the term morons to new heights.
She didn't return to the Ministry. She went back to Little Whinging, where she managed to corner Mrs Figg, an old squib, who lived nearby those wretched Dursleys, squeezed every information she remembered out of her and finally searched her house from the top to the very bottom. She found nothing except for an old tin of catfood, that had fallen behind the refrigerator.
When she left Mrs Figg's place, she decided to visit Remus Lupin, a friend of the Potters. She was running in circles and had absolutely no idea what to do. Knowing, that the permit for visiting Azkaban wouldn't be ready before tomorrow morning, she was seriously frustrated.
Apparating to the small village called Treen in Cornwall, where Lupin lived nowadays, she kept calling up every detail, she saw at the Dursleys, to the forefront of her mind.
The door had been locked. Both, before and after the break-in. The lock of the cupboard was untouched. Harry had been picked up with the blanket he was sleeping on. There were neither fingerprints nor footprints. The wards around the house hadn't gone off. They should have.
The wards should have activated as soon as someone, meaning to harm the boy, approached the house, she realised. She stopped dead in her tracks when the thought hit her.
"The wards weren't triggered," she whispered to herself.
That could mean only one thing. Whoever kidnapped Harry from the Dursleys, had no intention to harm the boy. But who might that be? Somebody who knew the Potters. Who saw how the Dursleys treated the child and decided to help him. A friend or a relative.
"No," she told herself.
The Potter family was very much dead. James' and Lily's parents had been dead for at least a year until James and Lily had died. The only close relations were the Dursleys. Then a friend. From the closest and still alive aquaintances of the Potters only Remus Lupin remained. If it wasn't him then who else?
Homam. Sirius' son. Was it a crazy coincidence that both boys were seventeen months old? Hiding the child seemed so unlike Sirius, but ...
"Did I even know him?" she mused aloud.
That was it, she decided. As soon as she had checked up on Lupin, she would go to London and examine the boy.
She resumed walking towards Lupin's cottage. He answered the door and she immediately felt bad for coming here. Lupin looked like death warmed over.
"How may I help you?" he inquired weakly as he leaned against the door. He looked as if he could be knocked over with a feather.
"I'm auror Mirzam Verascez," she introduced herself. "I'm in charge of the search for the kidnapped Harry Potter."
Lupin suddenly released his hold of the door and fell to the ground. She rushed in immediately and knelt down at his side.
"Great Mirzam, congratulations," she muttered to herself. "He actually fainted."
She scratched her head, reflecting upon the action best taken now. Searching the house without Lupin breathing down her neck or reviving the man. The practical side of her brain advised her to opt for the former, while the other, empathic side preferred to choose the latter or at least move him from the floor to a more comfortable place. Both sides battled inside her head and finally the practical won, though she did levitate him onto the couch.
She checked his breathing and after deciding that he should be fine on his own for a while, she started searching the house.
She swiftly examined every nook and cranny of the place, not that there were many of them since the cottage was very small, and finally reverted to the living-room, where she had left the unconscious man who was still very much out of it.
She hadn't found anything interesting except for a photo album full of pictures from Lupin's school days. A pair of chains with shackles in the basement caught her interest, but they appeared to be unused since at least a couple of weeks. Two weeks ago Harry had still resided at his relatives, so Lupin couldn't have shackled the boy to the wall at the time. As for shackles ... maybe Lupin liked kinky sex ...
There was no use of keeping the man unconscious anymore, so she revived him with a quick ennervate.
He opened his eyes slowly and blinked upon seeing her.
"How are you feeling?" she asked in sincere concern.
"Like crap," Lupin replied weakly. "You mentioned Harry Potter?"
"Somebody kidnapped him from his relations. I'm in charge of the search for him," she explained and more or less expected him to faint again.
"When?" Lupin wanted to know as he sat up slowly.
"Nearly three days ago. On Christmas Eve. But the relatives didn't realise he was missing until noon at Christmas Day," she answered.
"Who could have done such a thing?" Lupin wondered.
"I have no idea," she lied. She had an idea, at least a theory, but she wasn't going to share it with Lupin, yet. "I hoped maybe you could tell me something."
"I didn't know anything until you told me," Lupin stated, his voice sounding sincere.
"I hope, you don't mind me having searched through your house while you were out. Old habit, sorry," she admitted openly.
Lupin waved his hand at her, dismissing her statement.
"Would you explain something to me?" she asked reluctantly.
Lupin agreed with a nod.
"The chain and the shackles ... ," she trailed off.
"For me," he confirmed wearily.
"You like kinky sex?" The question slipped out before she could stop herself.
Lupin stared at her in amazement before he whispered, "I'm a werewolf."
'Moron', she berated herself and apologized quickly, "I'm sorry."
"Nevermind," Lupin mumbled.
"But I am. It was rude and unnecessary," she said sincerely.
"Don't worry," he offered meekly. "I got used to those kind of jokes. Sirius was particularly fond of them," he added as he rubbed his face.
The silence falling after that statement belonged to the uncomfortable sort. Lupin cringed and she turned her head away.
"You knew him," Lupin realized finally.
"I was his partner," she answered quietly. "I should have seen the signs."
"He fooled us all," Lupin insisted calmly. "But that's not what hurts the most."
"What ails you?" she turned to him.
"He insinuated me being the spy ... I'm a werewolf ... dark creature. Plenty of reason there. My only friends turned their backs on me and trusted him ... enough to put their lives in his hands ... and he killed them ... or at least signed their death warrant," Lupin listed. "What pains you is that you failed to see it coming ... you think you failed as an auror."
'No, that's not what hurts me most,' she reminisced and immediately banished that thought. There was no use to cry over spilled milk. Past events couldn't be reversed no matter how much she longed for it.
"I was taught better than that," she lamented. "I was second-best during training. I let myself be lulled into a false sense of security. That's when I learned not to trust anyone but myself," she sighed heavily.
"Hard lesson," Lupin stated.
"But a necessary one," she admitted quietly and then added, "If you find out anything about Harry, could you contact me as soon as you can?"
Lupin nodded.
"I will take my leave then. Have other places to visit before the night falls," she gave him a small nod and left.
She practically ran out of the house. She ran for something akin to a mile before she dropped into the snow and started crying openly.
After a while she sat up and whiped her face angrily. The day was beautiful even for December. She remembered sitting in the snow of a clearing in the middle of nowhere. The picnic. The nitwit had come up with the idea of a picnic and dragged her with him, after they'd finished their duty. They had been laughing, joking, telling each other stories. That day seemed like ages ago when in fact not even a year had passed.
"Fool. Imbecile," she chided herself. "Quit thinking about it."
She had to get up and visit Mrs Black before the nightfall, but she felt like all the strength she possessed had left her.
Walburga put Homam into his cot with a small smile. She had expected the meeting to be a disaster, but it ended quite well. Her mother and father weren't particularly happy about her decision to raise Homam, but they had remained civil for the entire evening. As for Melania and Arcturus, they were so excited about having a great-grandson, that the boy's half-blood status didn't seem to bother them overly.
She arrived home late after having a good laugh at the story about young auror Mirzam Verascez, told by Cassiopeia. Then for about an hour she quarrelled with her mother over Verascez not being a pure-blood name, as her mother insisted. Cassiopeia finally settled the argument by telling both of them that she would ask Verascez the next day,if she by any chance originated from the Spanish pure-blood family of Veracious, but somehow managed to get her name changed along the way.
Returning home after dinner with the family felt good. She needed some peace after spending the last couple of hours with a bunch of very loud relatives. Kreacher reported that shortly after she had left came a young woman with violet eyes and asked about her. When told about her absence of unspecified length, the woman left, stating that she would come back again the next day.
She didn't feel nervous about it. Not in the slightest. After all, the familious potion had been administered to Homam and now nobody would be able to discover that Harry Potter and Homam Black were in fact the same child. Well, nobody aside from Severus Snape, but he should know better than to share this particular information.
The cell was dark, cold and humid. Ten feet long, ten feet wide. The bed was one of the most uncomfortable beds he ever slept in. The food tasted like crap. His new robe didn't provide much warmth, so for the last few weeks he has been shivering constantly. Two Dementors guarding his door weren't helping him to stay sane either.
Sod Peter Pettigrew. This filthy, little rat not only sold James and Lily to Voldemort, but he had the gall to accuse him of treachery, then blow up a whole street and run away framing Sirius for his crimes.
Sod Bartemius Crouch sr. He sent Sirius to Azkaban without a proper trial. He used to look up to him and for a little while he even wanted to be like Crouch when he got older. But now ... the tosser betrayed him, didn't even give him a snowball's chance in hell to prove his innocence.
Betrayal. A bitter word, an act coming from two of the least probable sources, from the man he considered a friend and from the superior he trusted so much. Betrayal was good though, helped him to stay sane in this Merlinforsaken place. It wasn't a happy thought, it was a maddening thought. Mind-numbing. Heart-twisting. Soul-consuming. The word. The act.
The Dementors brought to the surface old memories, worries ... fears long forgotten. Like the one where he and Mirzam nearly got killed in the St. Ives Massacre. From the team of ten aurors sent to St. Ives, only he and Mirzam Verascez returned in one piece. He knew that the reinforcements came rather quickly, ten minutes ... but here, in this place, reinforcements never come. They were all left to die.
Mirzam. Tall and gangly Ravenclaw with long, curly, jet-black hair and almond-shaped, violet eyes, whom he tried to ask out since their third year but never succeeded. She was with him during training and later she was assigned as his partner. He remembered the look of sheer terror on her face when she read the list of partner assignments. It was a good memory, always made him smile. But it was one of the first the Dementors took away. The only thing he really recalled about her now was the St. Ives Massacre and seeing her in pain. He used to hope that she was fine, but hope was a good feeling and had been taken away, too.
James and Lily. The source of his happiest memories. Now gone and the only thing remaining was the image of two corpses. He kept envisioning Voldemort killing them.
Harry, his little godson. His little sunshine. He had promised himself that he would spoil him rotten. He hadn't had the slightest chance to do so. Dumbledore wanted the boy to stay with Lily's relatives. Why did he allow Hagrid to leave with him? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He should have taken the child, gone to the authorities and told them what really had occurred, but no. He had to be a pillock, let Hagrid take Harry away and chase after the infernal rat.
His mind kept spinning from all these images, memories, worries, fears. It was frustrating as hell. It was driving him up the wall.
Suddenly he heard footsteps on the corridor ,outside the cell, definitely human. Not many aurors visited this part of Azkaban, they tended to stay away, whoever walked here was brave as hell.
The footsteps stopped in front of his cell.
"I have permission to interrogate the prisoner without your assistance," spoke the voice, he thought he might never hear again.
The sound the Dementors made weren't of the happy kind.
"That's an order from the departmenthead of Magical Law Enforcement," barked the voice. "You may go and complain to him personally, if you have a problem with this."
They left rather disgruntled. Had he been in their place, he wouldn't have left happily either.
The door opened and revealed a lone figure dressed in an over-sized, black cloak. Its hood hid the face, but he already anticipated who was visiting.
"Mirzam," he croaked, his voice sounding raspy even to his own ears.
He stood up with the intention to run over and hug her for dear life. He managed to take only one step in her direction, when her wand shot up and pointed at his chest.
"You know better than anyone, that I can throw some rather nasty curses," she barked as her left hand pulled down her hood.
"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," he said sincerely. "Did Crouch finally see the light and decide that I should have a trial?"
"Pardon me?" she queried, though the wand in her hand lowered a little.
"He sent me here," he pointed at the floor, "without a trial."
"Do you even need one?" she asked sarcastically. "I can't help but admire your nerve, Black."
"So we are back to surnames now, huh?" he snorted. "It's Sirius, you know."
"After what you have done, I 'd rather keep all our contact to business level. I'm not overjoyed to be here, but I can't help it," she declared.
"I haven't done anything, Mirzam!" he exclaimed. "I would rather die than betray James and Lily!"
"Yet you are here now and they are six feet underground," she hissed angrily.
"I was not their secretkeeper!" he yelled. "I was too obvious! That's why I switched with Peter Pettigrew! Had I known that he was the nasty, little bugger who kept passing information to Voldemort, I would've been James' and Lily's secretkeeper!"
"You weren't the secretkeeper?" she sounded surprised.
"I wasn't!" he yelled. "That's the sodding problem! Had it been me, James and Lily would still be alive and Harry would still have his parents!"
"The muggles?" she asked swiftly.
"Pettigrew, too. He accused me of treachery before he blew up the street, cut off his finger and transformed into the rat he is and ran away," he snarled.
"Rat?" she whispered, her wand completely dropped to her side.
"He is an animagus," he answered bitterly. "An unregistered one, don't bother to check on him in the registry, he is not listed there."
"How do you know that?" she inquired.
"Because I helped him to master this ability. We were at Hogwarts then," he sighed in frustration.
"Sit and keep talking," she ordered.
"Remember Remus Lupin?" he asked as he sat down.
She nodded hesitantly.
"Shortly before the end of our first year we discovered that he was a werewolf," he said grimly. "At the beginning of our second year James and I discovered a way to keep the wolf at bay during the full moon. A hard, dangerous and very complicated one. Seemed brilliant back then. You know that a transformed werewolf looks for human flesh but does not harm animals."
"You became animagi," she murmured. "When?"
"Fifth year," he answered. "James was a stag. Peter was a rat. I should have seen it coming."
"You were?" she insisted.
"Doesn't matter," he dismissed, knowing that he might give away the only way of preserving his sanity in this place.
"You're right, it doesn't," she stated. "Won't matter when I request an anti-animagus ward on your cell. You and I both know, that animals are less complex than humans, so staying in animagusform may help you to retain your mind."
She played dirty and he couldn't help but admire her courage.
"A dog," he volunteered. "Grim, to be more precise," he added after a moment and let himself morph from his human form into his animagus.
She stared at him in shock.
Transforming in front of someone else, other than his friends, made him feel vulnerable, nearly naked.
"If I gave you veritaserum, what would you tell me?" she asked suddenly, her voice seemed distant.
He morphed back and caught her eyes, before he assured her, "The same as I already told you. I would rather die than betray Lily and James. You have no idea how many times I wished that we hadn't switched."
He hung his head slowly. This was it. He told her everything he knew. Revealed his biggest secret to her. He gave away the chance to save his sanity.
He expected to be ridiculed, hexed, cursed, hell, even killed. He, however, didn't expect to be pulled into a bonecrushing hug and get enveloped by the scent of fresh apples and old parchment which was so uniquely Mirzam.
"I believe you," she murmured in his ear. "I believe you, but I can't do anything until Peter Pettigrew is found alive and tested under veritaserum."
"I know," he answered and hugged her tighter.
The relief he felt, that somebody in this world believed in his innocence; was overwhelming. He didn't notice that he was crying until she pulled away from him and whiped off his tears with her hands.
"I won't divulge your secret," she assured him and her voice sounded sincere.
"Thank you," he commented.
"But that's not why I'm here now," she admitted.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"Someone kidnapped Harry from his aunt's house three days ago. Crouch is going spare, so are the Minister and Dumbledore," she stated gravely. "They put me in charge of the search. Somebody assumed you might know who took him and I was supposed to make a deal with you, if you revealed anything."
"I know nothing, Mirzam," he declared sincerely. "Did you find any clues at all?"
"Nothing," she declined. "Not a single hint. Someone had known they were keeping him in the cupboard and gone straight for him."
"Cupboard?" he roared. "They kept him in a cupboard?!" his blood boiled, his godson had been kept in a cupboard like a blasted broom.
"I know. Had me flying off the handle, too," she scowled. "I set Child Service on them and backed it with strong evidence I produced as soon as I left their house. No child should have to live like that."
"I imagine that Dumbledore wasn't a very happy camper," he remarked smugly.
"Not at all. He had the audacity to corner and inform me that as soon as the boy is recovered,he is to be reinstated with his relatives!" she retorted. "I explained to him where he could shove that thought. I will sooner adopt him myself before I let the Dursleys lay their hands on him again and if he tries something underhanded, I will show him that I didn't exactly make second-best auror during training because I looked pretty. Told him that I'd ensure his early demise," she fumed.
"You would adopt him?" he gazed at her in wonder and surprised even himself with the hope in his voice.
"Of course I would," she confirmed. "As soon as I retrieve him that is."
"Where did you investigate?" he inquired all of the sudden, letting himself fall back into the old auror routine.
"The obvious. Old Figg. Lupin's place. Any number of pure-blood families who let me in willingly, I'm still waiting for a few permissions and then I'm going to visit several others. Actually, your mother is next on my list," she divulged.
"That's nonsense, Mirzam," he shook his head. "She wouldn't even come within a spitting distance to him."
"I'm not so sure, Sirius," she objected. "I gathered from your aunt, the one working at the DIMC, she acquired a child of Harry's age a few days ago. Actually your aunt was rather talkative about it ... said something about the madness finally catching up with her and after practically disowning you, she decided to raise your bastard son," she explained. "That's suspicious."
"I don't have a bastard child, Mirzam," he denied. "Trust me, I would know it if I did. Considering that my supposed bastard son is around Harry's age, that gives nearly two and a half years for his conception and I very much assure you that I didn't have sex since ... since I left the theoretical training in December of 1978. Didn't really have much time, even for a quickie, since then," he snorted. "And in October and November of 1979 we were in North Finland freezing our bums off while chasing after Garbageworthy," he added after a moment.
"That's interesting," she perked up. "Refresh my memory. Are you related to the Potters somehow?"
"James was my first cousin once removed, thus Harry is my second cousin," he replied.
"I have a theory," she brooded. "I need to test it. If I'm right ..."
"You assume that my mother has Harry?" he exclaimed.
"The dates fit," she declared. "If she does ... this is going to be fascinating as hell."
"What's your plan?" he wanted to know.
"To check the the facts," she informed him. "Looks like I will probably put my job on the line if I'm right ..."
"Mirzam!" he hissed.
"If your mother has Harry ... and Harry is taken care of, I mean properly taken care of, I actually see no reason to report what I discovered. Any place is better than the Dursley household," she debated and he caught a mad gleam in her eyes.
This was Mirzam Verascez on her most mischievous, something that rarely had surfaced in the past, but every time it did, Sirius remembered drastic measures being taken.
"I want you to promise me one thing," he required.
"Depends on your request," she quipped.
"Don't do anything stupid," he implored.
"Don't worry," she smiled. "I won't. Take care, Sirius," she hugged him. "I have a theory to test and if I'm right, I'm going to search the country for a certain rat with a missing toe. Maybe I can get you out of this Merlinforsaken place legally."
"You are welcome to try," he held her close. "Take care and be on your guard."
"I will," she assured him. "See you as soon as I will be able to."
She left him with a brilliant smile that made his bones melt and had him sit down on his bed weak-kneed. She knew and she believed him and she was going to help him and she would take care of Harry and do what was the best for the boy.
He lied down grinning like a loon and didn't even realize when he fell, for the first time in ages, into an undisturbed sleep.
Walburga had waited for this mysterious woman with violet eyes the whole morning. She even kept Homam with herself in the library on the ground floor, so she would hear someone knocking at her frontdoor. The morning had passed uninterrupted and it worried her a little against her better judgement. Lunch passed quickly but the hours afterwards seemed longer than usual.
Finally, at five o'clock in the afternoon she heard a loud knock on the door. She ordered Kreacher to keep a watchful eye on Homam and went to answer the door.
As she opened the door, she saw a young woman standing on the frontsteps. She was dressed in a muggle-friendly version of the auror uniform with a long, oversized, black cloak hanging on her shoulders. Her hair was long, curly, black in colour and tied into a loose braid. It allowed Walburga to see her heart-shaped face clearly.
Upon recognizing Walburga the woman flashed her a smile and said, "Good afternoon, Mrs Black. My name is Mirzam Verascez. I'm an auror. I was hoping that we could have a conversation."
Instinct screamed at her to not let the woman into her house, but she knew better than that. If she refused admission now, the auror would return with a warrant and reinforcements and then things could get real nasty. She could easily deceive one auror but not five of them.
"Hot tempered?" she couldn't help but ask after what she had heard from Cassiopeia.
"Only when I have a very good reason," Mirzam smile at her politely.
"Come in," Walburga opened the door a bit wider so the woman could gain access. "My aunt told me that you yelled at Dumbledore."
"He deserved it," Mirzam said sheepishly. "I was hoping to see your grandson, Mrs Black. Your aunt told me about him."
"I assure you, if you are suspecting that I took Harry Potter from his relatives and brought him here, you are very wrong indeed. Homam was growing up with his mother in Brighton, until the poor woman was killed in a car accident few days ago," Walburga tried desperately to appear truthful to the woman.
"Frankly, the theory itself is half-baked," Mirzam smiled a little. "But I'm supposed to do what my superior tells me, so I have to look into it. I hope, that I won't be causing much of a problem."
Walburga nodded and went towards the library with Mirzam at her heels. She opened the door, feeling that her hands suddenly started trembling. She gestured at Kreacher to leave and went to pick up Homam.
Mirzam halted her steps a few feet away from them and started watching the boy carefully. The intensity of her piercing gaze almost made Walburga flinch. Suddenly Mirzam nodded and spoke, "Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs Black. I'm sorry for imposing on you."
"I'm sorry, that you didn't find what you were looking for," Walburga replied as sincerely as she could. "Certainly you will locate Harry Potter soon."
Mirzam smiled wildly before she calmly declared, "Oh, but I did."
"Oh, really?" Walburga looked seriously surprised. "Where?"
"Here," Mirzam didn't stop smiling as she pointed at the floor. "In this house. Actually in this very room."
'Imbecile' Walburga realised. She was holding Homam in her right arm, her wand arm. There was no way that she would manage to switch arms and get her wand out, before the auror hexed her.
"Where?" she kept bluffing, knowing that she got herself into a mighty pickle.
"You are holding him," Mirzam exclaimed, still smiling.
"I'm holding my grandson Homam," Walburga stated as calm as she could.
"I won't deny it. Neither will I deny that obviously Harry Potter and Homam Black are in fact one and the same child," Mirzam concluded. "To tell you the truth, your plan was brilliant, Mrs Black. It only had one major flaw."
"What do you mean?" Walburga tried to play dumb.
"What do you intend to do with the boy?" Mirzam demanded to know and the smile vanished from her face, giving way to a trained, emotionless look.
"Raise him as well as I can," Walburga answered honestly this time. "He has no family other than me. Sirius isn't exactly in the best circumstances to take care of him now."
"No, he isn't," Mirzam nodded, her voice became less businesslike. "Speaking about Sirius, I had a little heart to heart discussion with him and he seemed to be kind of ... frustrated, that he didn't get laid since December of 1978. As far as I know, your grandson is seventeen months old. I presume he was born in August of 1980, so after taking away nine necessary months we get late October or the beginning of November 1979 for the conception to take place. Frankly, exactly in October and November of that year Sirius and I were on an auror exchange, freezing our bums off in a small cottage in North Finland, while chasing Seamus Garbageworthy. We were all on your own, so unless I somehow managed to conceive back then and didn't realize that I was carrying his child, there is no way for Homam to actually be your grandson, Mrs Black, and I assure you, that both of us were keeping our hands where they belonged."
That was it, Walburga thought. Out of all aurors in the world, the one who knew Sirius best had to be in charge of the search for Harry Potter. Her masterplan had failed. Didn't even last a week.
She set Homam on the floor and hung her head, as she succumbed, "What are you intending to do now, auror Verascez?"
Mirzam didn't answer immediately, she seemed to be contemplating something, before she finally claimed, "Invite myself over for tea."
"Pardon me?" Walburga raised her head and stared at the woman in disbelief.
Mirzam looked like she pulled the prank of a lifetime. She wore a wide grin on her face and her violet eyes sparkled merrily.
"I need to get to know my little son before I will find a way to get his father out of prison," Mirzam exclaimed cheerfully.
Walburga, while still staring at her, found it rather difficult to acknowledge what she just heard.
"Let's talk about it over a cup of tea. The boat-ride to Azkaban and back left me quite nauseous and I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. I'm famished," Mirzam stated jovially as she picked up Homam, who in the meantime had toddled over to her, and left the library.
Walburga felt like the earth suddenly started turning backwards.
As always, tell me what you think.
As for Mirzam Verascez ... I'm very fond of all my original characters thank you very much. Especially the few of them which stayed with me, or should I rather say in my head for last four years, like Mirzam and Thabit. I got two others, new guys, one of which I already introduced here. Writing Melvin Prewett is very entertraining, especially in my other story DH compliant but canon abusing (as far as crapilogue is concerned) 'Turning Over a New Leaf' where he gets few powerful lines in and saves Harry's bum even if he keeps pissing poor Harry off constantly.
'Turning Over a New Leaf' is another funny story which had been following me around for some time and kept bitting me from time to time. In so far it managed to get me to write four chapters straight and made me almost finish the fifth (as soon as I figure out how to get Harry out from the hospital it will be done). The story concerns mostly around Harry bringing up Teddy while dealing with being an Auror and few reamaining Death Eaters who intend to hurt poor little Teddy. I also added some emotional stuff about Sirius because I felt that HBP didn't dealt with Sirius's death properly. Speaking about Sirius, he happens to be the key to the sequel of TONL which in my plan is about fifteen maybe sixteen chapters long. In so far I didn't managed to plan the sequel put I have pretty good idea what I'm going to do.
Chapter edited on 3rd July 2008.