Fall of Innocence Chapter 2, a harry potter fanfic

Harry Potter in, Fall of Innocence

Chapter Two.

The ways of God and government and girls are all mysterious, and it is not given to mortal man to understand them.
–Lazarus Long, Time Enough for Love by Robert A. Heinlein

It was late the next morning before the three displaced Brits managed to drag themselves back to the world of the living. Remus seemed the most resilient of the three, but Harry just blamed Werewolf stamina and a less stressful prior week. Refreshed and ready to explore the new city, Harry picked out a set of clothing that seemed to fit in with the styles around Salem, and went to see if anyone would be joining him.

Though the flat had a kitchen, Harry hadn't bothered to check if it also came with food. The smells that greeted him as he came down the steps seemed to indicate the answer to that at least was a yes. On his way to the main floor, Harry paused and looked about him, comparing the place again to Grimmauld, and then the house on Privet. Smiling, he was unable to draw more than glancing parallels to either.

Waiting on his two traveling companions, Remus tended the small supply of breakfast and sipped his tea, critical of the American variety available. Seeing Harry wandering around in the main foyer, the Werewolf called to him, beckoning him over. "Recovering from the flight well enough?"

Looking out the windows and comparing what he was seeing, in the sun's position to his own instincts, the young wizard furrowed his brow. "I suppose. May take a while to get used to the time difference."

"Likely so." Setting his tea aside, the older man seemed to stare out unseeing, through those same windows. "It's a complicated place. Possibly more so than England and Europe. You'd do well to keep an open mind here," shaking himself from the reverie, Lupin turned an apologetic smile to Harry. "Sorry, just thinking on my own task and how different things are here."

Harry nodded but his curiosity was now piqued. "How so? Different I mean."

"Tonks and I had thought to go over this with you together, so we could make sure nothing was missed, but I suppose I can begin now," taking another drink of the lackluster tea, the Werewolf pulled a small journal from his coat and sat it down on the table. "I made some notations during a research session, this would help with the more complex issues. Think of it much like a travel guide. For the brief version, though...

"The first order of business is to get yourself familiar with the area, and locate the nearest ah, Senate, I think they are called here. Those are like the Ministry back home. Local offices which govern an area. Next we'll need to get your wand signature recorded and registered." Looking over Harry's clothes, he nodded appreciably. "We can do that this afternoon."

Sitting up straighter, Harry considered that point and shook his head slowly. "Could we go sooner? And what are the penalties for having an non-registered wand here?"

Eyeing his best friend's son carefully a moment, Lupin dropped his gaze to the food on his plate. "I'm not sure I understand, Harry. I only remember you having one wand. Was there another?"

"No, of course not."

Smiling ever so slightly, Remus took a very deliberate bite of his food. "Then why worry on it? We go in the afternoon, because I know your penchant for trouble, and the only real way I can see to diffuse that is to make sure you're prepared," the man said, as if talking about the weather and taking an umbrella.

"Humph," Harry replied, eloquently.

Conversation continued, as Lupin pointed out the various things that were different, and that needed to be done. First among them of course was his wand registry. Much like the offices in the Ministry for misuse of magic, the US had restrictions on all wands, and required citizens and visitors to make their wand's signatures available. This was mainly a method to prevent crime, as a signature could be obtained from a crime scene, and matched to the registry, much as Harry remembered the method from the telly, of firearm ballistics.

Other needs were also voiced, but seemed less critical. Harry and Lupin agreed that Oswald would be an ideal choice, not only for the sake of familiarity with the home and area, but also as a source of information. Apparently, there were strong differences between house elf relations here and back in Britain. Gringott's branches were handled differently, and would take some time, and likely shows of trust in a monetary inclination, to smooth down any arising issues.

Salem was a large priority, and Lupin slid a fall class schedule for Harry to peruse. "I've marked some classes that according to the international equivalences that you're ready and prepared for."

Somewhat abashed, Harry took the list with thanks. "I'd not really thought about that. I'm really grateful you looked into it."

Chuckling, Remus tilted his head as if hearing something. "Let me warm this up a bit, while we talk." Rising, the Werewolf attended the meal left warming on the stove or plates, and passed Harry some as well. "When Tonks mentioned the plan and asked for my help, I knew why she'd approached me. Dumbledore... in his time with the Order, had some long ideals." Smiling back at Harry, the man shook his head slowly. "To get in touch with the Werewolf clans in Europe, he had me brush up on education law and principles of magical education. Schools always need teachers. You could say that your third year was a test run."

Regarding the man with confusion, Harry ruminated over his food. "So, Tonks knew this?"

"Which is partly why I'm here. The other half is, admittedly, a personal issue." Glancing over Harry's shoulder, Lupin hefted a steaming plate of eggs and bacon. "Good morning, Tonks. Sleep well?"

Grumbling, the metamorph just made a wobbling bee-line for the table. "Sod off, morning people," slumping into a chair, she hid a yawn behind her hand. "Sorry, just still sleepy. Thank you," she replied, after taking the plate from Lupin's hand. Eating slowly till her tea kicked in, the woman looked up at the amused expression of the others, and frowned. "What?"

Hiding his grin with the teacup, Harry shrugged, "Just amused at how you handle jet lag. Can't say I'm much better. Just too excited to be anything else."

Mumbling her answer, the witch just tucked into her meal, as Harry and Remus chatted about classes and Salem. After a small lull in the conversation, she reentered. "You started discussing what needed to be done, now that we're here?"

Remus nodded, looking up from the planner briefly. "Part of it, yes. Didn't touch on cover stories, or culture."

Shaking the cobwebs loose, Tonks nodded in acknowledgment. "Alright Harry, there are a few things about our cover stories we need to go over, just to tighten things up a bit." Taking a bite of her toast, she pulled out the passports of the three and opened them. "Lupin, your personal business makes it less important for you to be tied up with us, so we'll not worry on that much. Go with something normal. Adventuring at length, wanting to see the sights, try some new things," smirking a bit, she hid her face behind a cup. "Maybe sample the wildlife."

Snorting, Lupin merely shook his head. "I'll be fine. 'Andy' will likely be a capricious, middle-aged man with a mind for dangerous hobbies. It would be a good screen for my long absences, and the locations I need to visit."

"Speaking of those things, what are you here for, Remus?" Not the first time she'd inquired, Tonks still didn't expect an answer, so was surprised to see the man thinking about the question intently. "If you can tell us," she prompted quietly, encouraging the man with a smile.

Looking pensive, the Werewolf considered his hands. "To be honest, I've heard of other clans here in the states. Remnants of the pre-Colonies, and others that sought out a larger range, or solitude in the great expanse of the west. Those that aren't loyal to any side. I was hoping to gather some information, maybe make contact."

Chuckling, he shook his head, "For all I am a man, human, all but a day a month, the instincts and changes in me are deep rooted. We are a pack people, Werewolves. Since the Ministry's mandates about lycanthropes, classifying us as little more than beasts, most of England's population fled or were driven further to ground. It is... difficult." Pausing, Remus looked away, clearly uncomfortable. "Since my youth I've relied on others, relied on the small kindnesses of Dumbledore and the Order to maintain me, where I could not. The packs often do these things. I've been so long feeling that emptiness, and I want it banished," he finished hotly, face coloring as he did so.

Tonks nodded, feeling ashamed at dragging the issues out so, and clearly unhappy with how it was affecting the man. "I'm sorry. I had no idea. It's Grayback isn't it? He's made it hard for any decent Werewolves to get a fair go at living."

Nodding briefly, the older wizard stood, painting an insincere smile on his face. "Partially, yes. Grayback has made it his life to subvert the populations there, turn them to his own cause. Like Tom, he's a fanatic, but for him it's the hunt and kill, not power." Shrugging, Lupin settled some loose groceries away, and cleaned, keeping his hands busy while his mouth worked. "I suppose that gives him power too. Like Voldemort, his name inspires fear. He's using that influence, and thinks it possible to gain allies from the continent as well. I never got the chance to travel there, but with his eyes on it, I worry if my history with him would only cause more problems." Moving so his back was to the younger pair at the table, Lupin busied himself with domestic things. "I'm also terribly tired of dealing with this alone. Relying on Snape and his potions, and Dumbledore's barbed hospitality.

"Oh, don't get me wrong," he said quickly, turning to face his friends. "I'm not dissatisfied with your company, not at all, or the thought to include me in this. I just feel... the need to put the past behind me. Let go of the guilt, and the anger." Smiling sadly, apologetically at Harry, the Werewolf laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I loved your parents as if they were my own blood Harry. But I need to get back to living. They showed me kindness beyond what I expected, and it hurt having it taken away, in all the ways it happened." Looking distant a moment, Remus let a single small chuckle escape him. "You are much like your father. But also much different. I think it is that difference that makes you great, Harry."

With that, Lupin moved quickly up the stairs, leaving a somewhat dumbstruck Harry and Tonks in his wake. Harry considered what he knew of Lupin and sighed. "I think... he still hurts from when James and Lily didn't trust him to be their secret keeper," nodding slowly at his reasoning, Harry listlessly shifted things on his plate. "He blames them, and himself for what happened."

"Sirius could have done them a great service if he'd only known about how the bloodlaw worked," Tonks grumbled, but shook the dark mood off with a deep breath. "C'mon. We have things to go over. We'll set out some small inquiries and help Lupin where we can, and where he'll allow." Taking up her own passport, Tonks ran a finger along the information there. "Now, for Natalie Thompson. Since we'll both be doing most of the public talking, and appearing together, it'll be important not to trip up on each other's identities. When I was an Auror, we had special training when it came to dealing with infiltrating locations under cover. Some of that was self-charming, and memory work. It helps to believe you are your story, but not too deep. Don't want to forget yourself."

As she spoke, Tonks pulled her compact Pensieve out again. "I set up my cover memories last night with some charms, and set up a ritual to duplicate them." Opening the small black thing, she was greeted with the two distinct strands of memory sitting there, shimmering. "Take one and keep it, that will help with getting my info straight when it comes up. Tonight, I'll teach you the basics on how to do this as well."

Curious, Harry nodded and looked to the small loop of memory there, left alone as Tonks reclaimed it's twin. Taking his wand, he focused and the memory adhered to the tip, and he sat back to ride out the sensation of having foreign thoughts in his mind.

Constructed memories weren't as reliable as true ones, for teaching and showing things that happen, but it was a basis behind Occlumency as he was growing to understand it. Shielding one's mind from attack required both passive and active elements, and the most reliable active ones were false trails, diversions and implanted falsehoods that could trap or fool an attacker. When Harry closed his eyes to absorb that memory, the sensation of slight wrongness he'd experienced with Narcissa while practicing the bloodlaw shielding returned.

It was like probing an Occlumency shield, and getting lead off track, he thought, watching the somewhat hazy, jerky memories play back. Brief, uninventive snippets gave him basic information. Tonks' voice showing images of places and street corners, saying 'home', or 'school' and then a collage of unimportant but essential facts for maintaining a cover, playing in fast motion. He knew Natalie had a small scar on her forearm, was only twenty years old, single and looking. She was blonde, had straight hair, and to Harry's surprise, had a crush on her companion, Joseph. He saw altered replica's of his parents asking her to accompany him, having known him for years. Also there was a fabricated aside where he mother asked Natalie to be good, and not corrupt her son... too much. This talk apparently occurred at the same time one for Joseph and his father happened.

Feeling mildly confused and flattered, and a myriad of other hard to place emotions, Harry continued through memories. Scenes of her parents, of school and 'Andy', a recent friend. She'd purposefully left his recollections blank, and Harry thought that peculiar. Natalie also liked popular rock, though it was more the independent rather than trendy variety, was licensed to substitute teach, had all her permits, and was looking for work in the US, while Joseph attended Salem.

Opening his eyes, Harry immediately took a long drink of his water. "That was... a lot of detail and information. Are you sure I can learn that?"

Nodding, Tonks looked a bit weary as she focused on the room again, rising from her own recollections. She also had a slight blush, knowing Harry would have seen her less than subtle hint. "We can build it up over time, but some basic collaborating memories we can work on tonight. This will also help with your real Occlumency skills, rather than the bloodlaw ones. Though those seem fairly good, you're very far away from the things that tie you to that magic, and I'd feel wary relying on it."

Paling, Harry nodded. He'd not considered that the distance from those empowering places, the ones tied to his family by oaths and long-steeped magic, could effectively set him back to square one when it came to his mental defenses. "I was wondering though," he began quietly, "why it was you didn't spend a lot of time on memories of Lupin."

"Easy one there," she replied, smiling slightly. "I'm establishing you as his most active contact, as that is basically true. I've had a lot of time working with him, in the Order, but professionally. You've actually known him as a person longer."

"So I need to work on those memories."

Nodding, Tonks was happy he understood so quickly. "That's going to be one of the things we'll work on. It would be good for you to practice that, and building a solid recollection of his history, one that would fit with reality well enough. It would be good practice."

Rubbing at his temple, Harry nodded. "I suppose so. Why couldn't Snape be reasonable about this?" Grumbling, the memories of the unpleasant Potions professor overwhelmed his recent stock of new memories. "Tonks... what do you think will happen with the Order?"

Wincing, the witch sat her fork down and spared Harry a reassuring glance. "It's hard to say. Without Dumbledore guiding them, and with what we've learned recently..." pausing, Tonks shook her head. "I don't see it going very far, now. One of the biggest edges the Order had was Snape," holding up a hand, she stalled Harry's sharp retort. "Let me finish.

"Insufferable as he was, Snape was an inside man to Voldemort. This gave the Order a sense of superiority and also tactical advantage." Standing, she collected their plates, food ignored and cold after some time. "Now, it's painfully obvious that we've been led along this entire time. Voldemort knew Snape's position with Albus and the Order. With the common knowledge, false as we know it now, that Voldemort feared Dumbledore, he positioned Snape with the security that if one of his Lords went too far afield, he'd have one to fall back on.

"Snape was likely only led along so as to feed us false information, and supply a real advantage to Voldemort."

Harry leaned back in his chair, rubbing his palms against closed eyes. "So, all this time Albus has been using Snape, it's been Voldemort calling the shots?"

Tonks nodded sadly. "The only decisive work we've accomplished was though your little club in the Ministry. The Order has been at best, a source of information, not firepower, and now it's painfully obvious even that is suspect. Merlin, they barely have any fighters," she spat, collecting herself shortly.

"What about Moody? And Shacklebolt?"

"An Aurors isn't a match for a Death Eater, with no qualms for killing. True, Moody could hold his own, and Shack is competent, but they are only two." Pausing a moment, she seemed to collect her thoughts, "Let me tell you about what happened after the war. After Crouch Sr.'s stint at the Ministry, there was a general outcry against violence. Those fighters from the war were either conscripted into the Aurors, or given stern orders to keep themselves out of trouble," Tonks replied quietly. "The Aurors have been at best a police force used to petty crimes and small squabbles for a decade."

A few pieces of a puzzle snapped together in Harry's mind. "Wait. A decade?" At Nymphadora's nod his frown deepened, and he stood and started pacing. "A decade. So, when that curse rebounded, and everything went back to normal, as it were, the Ministry just stopped?"

Tonks stood and followed Harry as his pacing lead him through the foyer. "You must understand Harry, we lost nearly a third of the our population to Grindelwald and Tom. In fifty years, we lost an entire generation. Reminders of that violence weren't wanted."

Turning sharply, Harry boggled at the young witch. "What? Explain that."

"How many witches or wizards do you see, the age of Lupin?" She asked softly. "Most are either mine or your age, or the next generation after, like McGonagall and on the low side, the Weasleys." Taking his shoulders in hand, she looked into his eyes steadily. "After the war, almost all of your parent's generation was lost. So many went to Voldemort that what decent people were left were either fighters, targets or fled. This wasn't a war of combatant targets. It was civil terrorism."

Nodding woodenly, Harry sat down suddenly on the nearest chair. "So that's why the Order was so... sparse. Why Dumbledore didn't stop me from organizing the DA. There really wasn't anyone else to fight."

Sitting beside the young man, Tonks sighed and nodded. "Our generation is just getting into the world. Charlie, Bill and me... our days at Hogwarts were strange. The war had just ended a few years before I went to school. People were still scared, still reacting." Looking to Harry with a smile, she leaned into his shoulder slightly, "If we had you then, maybe we'd not be in this mess."

Harry just nodded a moment, not really understanding what she meant. Then his thoughts were sidetracked by the now distinct closeness of the witch, as she lightly leaned on him. Swallowing a sudden dryness in his throat, Harry focused on their conversation, to mask his blush. "What do you mean? How would that have mattered?"

Smiling out at the room and it's sparse furnishings, she shrugged before continuing, "It goes back to the reactionaries in the Wizengamot and Crouch again. After his son was sentenced, the orders and mandates he'd issued were made suspect. I guess Voldemort still had loyalists on his side, and they pushed the Ministry and curriculum into a more passive state. We learned more than has been taught recently, but it was still less than useful."

"He's been poisoning our world for decades it seems," bitterness was clear in Harry's voice, as well as anger. It made sense though. The easiest way, Harry figured at least, to win a war was to make sure there was no one on the other side to fight against. Fear was his first tactic, but undermining the opposition's very population seemed as valid.

Harry was drawn out of his thoughts by a question from the witch leaning on him, "Have you thought about your prophecy, or how to beat Voldemort at all, since that night at the library?"

Shaking his head, Harry looked down at Tonks, her own face tilted up slightly from her slouch. Tentatively, he settled his arm around her, and she nestled into him. "I haven't. Things have been so busy, since the reading. Has it only been three weeks?" At the former Auror's nod, he gave a sharp little laugh. "Feels like forever."

"It has been very busy. The wills, finding your birthplace to ensure you can keep out of Dumbledore's reach, then the Wizengamot and your own birthright." Thinking for a moment, Tonks shook her head slowly. "I don't know how you do it."

"What do you mean?"

Grinning up at him, she leaned up and brushed her lips against his lightly, her color rising quick, dusting her cheeks with rose. "Keep your head on straight while managing all this."

Waiting for his heartbeat to steady, Harry controlled his breathing well enough to speak after a handful or moments. "I've had very good help," he managed to say. The early morning light was brighter here than he was accustomed, and it gave the edges of her hair a light halo, keeping him silent longer as his eyes took in the sight. Shaking off his blatant appreciation, he kept a smile regardless, "You've helped me with learning what I needed to keep safe and free, Lupin's helped me when things got dire. Moody's given us more insight into our own people than I've ever had, and between Scrimgeour and Narcissa, I managed not to destroy the Wizengamot with my inexperience." Chuckling quietly, Harry let his smile go more sincere. "I've not done a lot on my own. I guess it's just intent. I want to see things get better, and when an opportunity comes to do so, I take it."

Tonks wanted to tell him that such things were what made heroes, but figured he'd rather not hear such a thing. His modesty was, though refreshing in her experience with purebloods and the attitudes of the common wizard, somewhat irritating at times when anyone else would be gracefully accepting praise. Truthfully she had to admit, with his experience and exposure to their world so limited, being thrown blindly into those situations would have been catastrophic. Not only for him, but the rest of their world as well.

They sat in silence then, taking long needed comfort in closeness and quiet, where so recently all they'd had was the frantic rush of action.

Some small while later, they were standing again with Remus, looking out over the balcony that faced the Green and Salem Village proper. "We have a lot of work to do, before school begins," he commented, gaining Harry's attention.

"How so? Does this have something to do with the classes?" Harry assumed Lupin had picked out what suggestions he'd made based on what the young wizard knew, but thinking back over it, had some questions on those still.

Nodding, Lupin looked out over the view from their perch as well, smiling at the impressive and rather pretty venue provided. The Green was a magnificent work of magic, and he looked forward to learning more about it before his errands took him to other places. "You may have seen two suggestions I made, that were different than what you were used to."

"Three actually," Harry corrected, pointing out a to Tonks in a moment of distraction a flight of birds, shifting about over the lawns. Focus restored in their passing, he looked back to Moony. "Transport licensing I suppose would be like broom and Apparition?"

Lupin shook his head, "Not entirely. We break broom riding and Apparition into different years, based on complexity. Due to the lower density of people in the UK overall, we have little reason to worry on people flying on brooms or such, at early ages." Gesturing out at the Green, Lupin then pointed up. "You won't see people flying out here, because of those rules. The States have a very restrictive set of rules on where and who can fly."

Grimacing, Harry sighed and was already mourning his Firebolt, when Remus continued. "Don't loose hope, cub. Most of their restrictions are based on ability, not a blanket of denial. With your flying skill, we should have you able to use your broom anywhere you like. Now, what we may not be able to get you licensed on, are MAV's. Magic assisted vehicles."

"You mean like the Weasley's car, or Hagrid's bike?" Harry's smile was huge, and Lupin laughed despite himself.

"Just like that. Where we use brooms as standard transport in the UK, families and distances are larger here. People rely on vehicles more than brooms, due to weather, distance and fatigue. Also, it seems they enjoy a bit more association with muggle innovation." Lupin pointed to the distant wall, and to his shock Harry saw a late-model, rather sporting looking car glide down and settle to the roadway. The auto then made it's leisurely way toward the official section of Salem. "As you can see."

"Brilliant," Harry murmured with obvious appreciation. "Am I going to get to learn how to drive one?"

Looking pained, Lupin thought for a moment, seeming contemplative. "Perhaps. We'd need to hire an instructor, as neither Tonks or I are licensed. Such things aren't common in our part of the world, and in some cases, seen as breaches of the Statute." Seeing Harry's disappointment, he chuckled. "Chin up. We'll look into it."

Grinning at Harry's enthusiasm, Tonks considered sitting in on those lessons as well. Though it would be nice for him to learn such skills, she found it just as interesting. Besides, why not learn as well? "One other thing, Harry. Here, the age limits on Apparition are sixteen for learning permits, but one can be licensed fully at eighteen. Now, like MAV's, the age limits are broken down into learning and assisted permits, and full licensing. Your passport has your age listed currently at seventeen, with your birthday being shortly after school begins."

"I noticed that, why change it so much?"

"It's not a large change, actually," she smirked. "For one, you're a legal adult in our country, which means this year you'd be able to learn all this normally. In the States, such things aren't based as they are back home, and everyone is considered a minor till the age of eighteen." Realization dawned on Harry, and she nodded. "We altered your age to suit what you can learn. You're simply gaining a year to make up for the difference, here."

Excited all over again, Harry beamed out at the expanse of space and tended lawn before them. "I can't wait to get started."

"We have a month or so before classes begin, so we should have enough time to get some private tutoring in," Lupin noted, making a small reminder for himself in a journal. "Now, the other reason we want to hurry these lessons, is that the licensing course is a not a year long event. Once you prove competency, you gain marks and are done. That would be one more block you could devote to another subject, or independent study."

Biting his lip, Harry turned to lean on the balcony, looking to his left and right along the line of homes. Most sported this kind of access, and he wondered what kind of security it could provide. Shrugging, he thought to Lupin's suggestion and nodded. "Perhaps I have some thing in mind to study. What kind of libraries are around, and what restrictions?"

Brows rising at the sudden change in topic, Remus took a moment to try and recall the answer. Shaking his head apologetically, he had to admit ignorance there. "Not so familiar with the area. Perhaps we can find out as we look about. Also, on restrictions... what did you mean precisely?"

Looking pensive, Harry's expression fell. "What laws against certain spells are there? Like our Unforgivables?"

"Ah," Remus sighed, knowing this conversation had to happen some time. "There is a more complex system here, thanks to a different legality. Any curse used with intent to do harm to another, is illegal. Grades of severity increase from petty jinxes, to killing potential. The difference is, here they rely on citizens reporting those offenses to begin the process. Where our Ministry tracks such things, here it's reactive."

Harry's brow knit and he shook his head. "So, were I to use an Unforgivable here, if no one reported it, I'd not be tried?"

Fidgeting, Lupin trusted his answer wouldn't lead the young man onto a dangerous path. "Yes. If there is no evidence, or report, such things simply aren't presumed."

It took Harry some time to digest that. "So, if I used... say a jellyleg hex to cause someone to stumble in front of a bus-"

"You'd be tried for murder, or some similar charge," Lupin finished, glad to see Harry was using his brain, and not simply letting these things go to his head.

Whistling in appreciation, Harry leaned back again and let that sink in. "What a different world."

Snorting, Remus laughed then. "At least we didn't go to South America or the Asias." When Harry's brow rose, the man smirked, "I don't know if you'd take to well to their versions of local law and typical practice." Letting it go there, Lupin handed Harry the small journal, and smiled. "I put all I could in there, use it well. It's more a guide, as I said, but should have some useful information. Meet me out on the foyer in half, we'll go see the Senate, and get things started."

Thanking the man, Harry watched him pass out of the balcony with a smile. "I would be so lost here without him."

"I know, I'm glad he was going, and I asked him," Tonks added, leaning aside Harry on the railing. "Moody's idea was good, but it didn't give us much to work with. I have to admit, I'd be lost here without Remus."

"Do you think we could help him, with what he's looking for?"

Biting her lip, Tonks sighed. "I'm not sure. It's hard to say if we'd be able to get more information than him, considering the nature of things." When Harry continued to look at her curiously, she chuckled. "Can you smell another Were if you were in the room with one? Or track one after their changing day, by the signs of it, or traces they may leave or still bear?" Seeing him understand, she smiled. "He's in a unique place to do what he needs to. It's why he's not asking for help, or expecting it. And why he's planning on being away for long periods."

After their few private moments that morning, Harry had to suppress the flash of possibilities that sped through his mind, at the idea of having the flat to themselves. Unseen, as she looked out at the Green, Tonks blushed faintly, seeing a few of those images regardless. Her smile didn't waver.

Meanwhile: Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire.

Narcissa was dismissing her recent guests, members of a neutral faction in the Wizengamot, from the recent conflicts. The Zabinis were, some would say, fence sitters. She knew better, understanding that the family had fared well in the last conflict by being neither for or against Voldemort's campaign. This allowed them to broker their votes without being suspect, as well as contribute to the war effort of the Ministry without being seen to hold a preference. Normally, such behavior would be seen as cunning and self-supportive.

Sighing, Narcissa had to disagree. Though experience had shown the Zabinis that neutrality was an acceptable stance, the sister Black knew that such a position would make them targets, all too soon. Before, Voldemort had not needed the usurp the Ministry – he had his agents inside like worms in an apple. Fear and the tactics he employed made it impossible to react in time to save his targets, and those within the Ministry were just wizards, not Aurors or men of power. They were as mortal as she. Fear was a good motivator. Now, the Dark Lord had lost his main power within the Ministry, and as such would be working from below, influencing wizards with threats and likely the livelihood of their families.

Sitting at a desk and rubbing her temple, the woman recalled one of Lucius' glowing recounts of the Dark Lord's tactics.

"Those cattle had little chance," the man ranted, practically aglow with satisfaction and pride. Though it was early in the war, and their son was safe, Narcissa was already doubting the supposed Dark Lord's practices. "Another family of blood-traitors reduced to ash. His will is unstoppable."

Lucius had assured her that the powerful wizard only intended to purge the land of the unworthy, those that held back the rightful rule of wizard's of stature. Her own family had backed the effort, and her marriage to Lucius was as much political between the families Malfoy and Black, as Black and Voldemort.

The Malfoys were a continental family, originating in France. One of the 'newer' pure lines, she had regardless assented to her family's will, and married. In her dealings with the burgeoning politician, she had her own hopes for his ascent to power. Now, she questioned such things.

The Ancient House of Black was not a warmongering, barbaric stable of fools to be lead about by the nose. Yet here, some man played at war. Their tactics were cowardly, not the subtle and cunning manipulation of influence and power. What skill was it to ward a home and prevent travel from it, then torch the structure to bedrock? What did it accomplish?

Sneering to the wall, she sighed. Even the cattle among men had a use. You didn't torch the fields of a conquered people – you used them to fuel your own war.

Shaking off the tiresome recollection, she tuned her thoughts to the home she dwelled in. In the week she worked with the former Lord, and now Lord again, Harry Potter, she had sent her son abroad, hoping his French cousins would settle his unhealthy focus on the Dark Lord and his sheep of a father. Their lessons were very informative, and also slightly shocking.

Though they'd rarely been done, she knew that blood inheritance rituals sometimes had strange repercussions. Looking into Harry's abilities, she had to assume this was such a case. Passing on by way of magical oath the Lordship Black to her, the Law should have left him. Should have broken tie, and stopped being accessible. Instead, he simply continued to access it, as if nothing had happened.

Initially she suspected trickery, but through the lessons with the mind magics that the Lordship allowed, she knew better. The boy, young man rather, simply didn't have those ties severed. Was it some consequence of his connection to Sirius? Was it a quirk of the ritual? She had no answers, and only more questions.

More curious still, was Harry's connection to his own Law. Merlin what mental fortitude! There was another reason, other than political that wizards were not allowed to hold the Lordship of more than one Ancient House. Madness. It should take nearly if not more than a decade of exposure and acclamation to attune one's self to the Law as he had done, before the reading. That the Black Law was immense, covering a large span of England and London, specifically, was no less a factor.

She knew, from her own exposure, that given the same experience as the Boy-Who-Lived to such magics, she'd be left a gibbering fool. That he could somehow manage to hold his own Law, and that of the House Black... her mind shuddered to comprehend the possibilities.

Focusing on her son and away from musings on the past, the Law pointed her to Draco, who was sitting in his room, reading. Smiling to herself, she let the home arrange a slow walk for her, allowing her son time to finish his missive.

Knocking on the youth's door, she was shortly bade entry, and she did so with a smile. "Draco, I trust... you..." trailing off, she saw the dark green envelope, open and with an unfolded letter read on his table. Much in the way of her own letter, some months ago. Schooling her expression, she painted on a pleasant smile. "So, my son. What news from the Dark Lord?"

Looking pensive, the young man stood and passed so her view of the desk was obscured. "He simply updates us, on the war effort."

Narrowing her eyes, she let her pleasant expression falter. "Draco. I did not ask for vague accounts. What news?"

Snapping his eyes up at her tone, he swallowed and nodded. "Forgive me. The Lord... he worries on our... loyalty."

"Our? You mean of course, my loyalty."

Wincing as if struck, Draco turned his face from her and nodded.

Narcissa willed the house to obey her, and the desk's surface went liquid and pliable. Shortly, the missive was pulled from view, while Draco's back was turned. "And what else? I don't expect such idle banter to warrant the Lord's attention, or all his time would be spend waving a pen, not a wand."

Shrinking from his mother's intensity, Draco turned his chair and sat upon it heavily. "He asks what headway you've made in assuring his agents and interests in the Ministry. With the filthy blood-traitor's killing of father, the Lord lacks his greatest influence there." Starting his answer quietly, Draco's voice went cold and laced with venom as he spoke of Lucius' death.

With a sigh, Narcissa summoned the missive from the home, bending the small space between it's walls and her hand with effort. Such things were similar to the Accio spell, but again, the Law was magic. How it manifested was limited to the power of the user, and their connection to it.

Draco's eyes widened at his mother's apparent use of obscure magics, and then again in fear at her possession of his letter. "Mother, please, let me-"

"Silence." The word, empowered, carried the force of the spell, and Draco fell silent as his mouth worked futilely.

Her eyes narrowing further, Narcissa read again the flowing, serpentine script of Voldemort's hand.

My most loyal Draco,

I send my deepest regards, in the passing of your father, one of my most esteemed servants. It sorrows me that Lucius will no longer be by your side, leading you in the way of the righteous, and instructing you in the path's to power.

As you may have heard, the whelp Potter was key in the resistance to my will in the Ministry. It was also he, working through his usurping of your family's rightful heritage, that have lead to his death.

Those that serve me faithfully, as your father in his long years as my vassal, will always find my power at their aid. Those that fail me in those expectations, will see only my wrath, and the absence of my notice.

Which bring me to your mother, Narcissa. I had thought to find the recent widow of he who held my trust to be deep in grief, but no. I find her placing her trust in Potter, at the reading of the will where your birthright would have been attained. I find her holding his council while you, my young servant, are being sent abroad. Curious, I wonder what other private discussions occurred.

Forgive me, I do not mean to besmirch your family, Draco. I simply find myself... disappointed. I know you will find the strength to cleanse the name Malfoy, so that I may look upon it's ascent with pride, beside my own.

The war continues, young Draco. On all fronts. Many of my most loyal, most dedicated and stalwart agents have proven themselves in the cleansing of their own blood, freeing their Houses of those that would be traitor to the supremacy of our cause. I understand your Aunt, my most cherished Bellatrix was the one that sent the blood-traitor Sirius through the Veil.

I would mourn the necessity of asking Bella to visit her sister, needlessly. She has proven her worth, and earned her mark, my mark, already.

I hope that my words reach you, Draco. It is a critical time in your service. My will, as you are well aware, shall be. Regardless of which tool, hand or servant performs it.

Your Lord,

Voldemort

Blood chilled by the tone and open threat in the letter, Narcissa tried to quell the rage and fear that beat through her veins, drummed against her ears. So, he wants me dead... and if Draco does not do the act, he will have my dear Bella extinguish me and likely my Draco, she reasoned through her rage.

Looking up at her only child steadily, Narcissa let the note fall to her side and watched Draco's ice blue eyes follow it, then find her own. "So. You have read the Dark Lord's missive then?"

Nodding slowly, Draco let his eyes drop from her own. Narcissa felt a trail of ice creep along her spine, at his distance. "You understand his will?"

From his side, previously hidden in fold of his robes, she noted his hand, slack. His fingers curled around the shaft the wand, there. "I see."

What could she do... Narcissa knew that in this home she could literally pulls walls down on top of intruders, pull the floor from under then, cause furnishings to assault them... but Draco! She could not act against her son. It was foolishness, naïve idiocy that she'd assured Potter that if Draco turned fully to the Dark Lord she could walk away from it.

Voldemort did not let those who slighted him walk free.

"Hand me the letter, mother."

Shaken from her thoughts, Narcissa looked back up to Draco and saw only an icy void, behind those crystal eyes. Numb herself, as if long within such a place, she held it forward, where it was taken gently from her hands. Ah, so he means to keep the letter, a trophy perhaps. Will I be his first kill, she wondered? Or has his father, perhaps even his godfather claimed rights to such a venture? No matter. Let it be done.

Unable to act against the only thing she still loved in this world, Narcissa stood, still as if carved from ice, and closed her eyes.

She heard to rustling of cloth, and imagined Draco raising his hand.

A pause...

An intake of breath, and the sound of a wand splitting the air.

"Incindeo."

She almost choked on her breath, biting back a sob. Oh no, no fast death for her. Apparently she would... die... slowly? No heat, no pain washed over her, as the fire she expected never came.

Curiously she let her eyes slip open, to see Draco holding the letter by a corner, as flames licked up along it's edges. Blinking, barely believing her eyes, Narcissa looked back to her son, and this time did let her tears come.

Draco looked at the letter in disgust, undisguised. That the man who called himself Dark Lord would be so stupid as to demand the death of his mother. Oh, he did idolize Lucius, as all young boys would, with a doting parent that gave them every desire.

Yet, he was not stupid. For years, since he was groomed to move as well into the world of politics and intrigue, he'd been schooled on what fights were worth the effort, what demands worth consideration, and what threats could carry their weight. Draco knew something very strange was going on with his mother, but she showed no signs of Unforgivables, no suspect behavior, and certainly wasn't endangering him, beyond the defiance of Voldemort's will itself.

Why would she send him away, except to spare him something, or protect him? Perhaps she did meet with that ingrate Potter – she now held the Lordship of the House Black, making her Lady of it's legacy. When he'd last seen Potter at his uncle's will reading, he'd assumed that mantle.

News of her actions in the Wizengamot were not hard to come by. Even that rag, the Quibbler had the same slant on her change of tune. Not so much supporting the cause of mudbloods and half bloods, she was instrumental in seeing a number of tax and legislative blocks against Voldemort's supporters, as well as quietly neutralizing any indecisive parties that could jeopardize certain actions.

Recently, the Headmastership was granted additional powers to divert funding to new programs, and with a day-long session in the Wizengamot, a new program to run an after class practical defense program was set up.

Honeydukes was purchased by a private investor, and a new, larger shop was quickly being erected across the street, while workers closed and were renovating the old shop in flurry of activity. Word was that Goblins had been seen on-site, working with the construction team, but never seen more than a few moments, and then rarely leaving. She was seen at the site, speaking with various foremen.

Individually, none of these would be a serious broach of protocol, for her position to act on, but Narcissa's hand was in each one. That on only few occasions, ones Draco easily saw as smokescreens to divert any suspicion of powerblocking between the Houses Potter and Black, the two branches of influence crossed words or opinions said much. It simply wasn't possible, in many ways to hide her loyalties, or as Voldemort's letter implied, lack thereof.

"For what we have both done, the Dark Lord will demand some balance, mother. Can you tell me why you back the blood-trai..." sighing, Draco rubbed angrily at his face. "Why you back Potter." Fairly spitting the name, Draco sank down to his desk chair, looking drawn and weary.

Narcissa let loose a breath she was unaware of holding. "Draco, do you remember the reading? How a presence touched us both, and how our magic responded?"

Nodding, Draco repressed a shiver. "It was like having someone reach inside me and take hold of my heart."

"It was Harry Potter, Draco. When he assumed to Law, which I've been teaching you sparingly as you've grown, your connection to my blood gave him that power." Watching her son, and the warring thoughts plain on his face, she was suddenly aware of her own weariness. "Let us move to the den. So we can speak at length."

For the next hour, Narcissa explained why she made her pact with Harry Potter. How she knew of his status, how he would one day be Lord Potter, and as such, must lose the Lordship Black. Explained how she was in the unique position to take it back, but would do so for her family and not the goals of another. She explained how much pride and hope she'd placed in Lucius, to be the man that would show the wizarding world that again, the Ancient House of Black would be preeminent.

Narcissa explained her disappointment and later disgust in a man, who once his own force to be reckoned with, became no more than another's servant. They argued then, about Lucius but she was adamant, and in time Draco understood. He wasn't happy, but he understood.

"You did all this for my benefit," he asked, gaze unfocused and distant as the night wore on to early morning. Again he wondered at the depth of his own mother's guile and cunning. Though he'd believed his father to be the force behind their family, and the Blacks simply an old bloodline quickly bleeding itself out, this... this all painted a different picture.

Nodding, Narcissa drank deeply of the tea she'd prepared herself. "I would pass to you the heritage of my family, when you are ready. When it is again something to be proud of, and worth of it's place in our world."

Fighting back his own anger, Draco looked back to her, searching her eyes for any lie, "And Potter, he agreed to this? He knows of your plan, of your intent?"

Staring back at Draco, she nodded somberly. "He is... young. Naïve, hopeful and brash. In another time, he would be an ideal tool to use against our enemies, and to dispose of once used up." Sighing, she stood and took a deep breath. "Now, he is the one, though he may not see it, pulling the strings."

"I just don't understand how... why him? What possible..." Draco trailed off as his mother rested a hand on his shoulder.

Looking down at him tiredly, she shook her head. "Life is often confusing. I asked those questions too, and came only to a certain conclusion." Smirking, she hid a yawn behind her hand. "Luck, and perseverance. He refuses to do anything but survive and overcome. Whether it is his magic, some outside force or a divine mandate, he has done exactly that."

Running a hand tiredly though his now disheveled hair, Draco still had issue with reconciling Potter to such a powerful force now in their world. Though he may not agree, may not like it... he was developing a grudging respect for the other wizard. If only for his actions to restore a sense of honor to his mother. "I need to think. All this... and my own decision. I need some time."

Narcissa nodded, but paused before leaving the room, her stilling gaining Draco's attention. "Why did you not act on the Dark Lord's order?"

Smirking amusedly at her, his usual expression returned, albeit shadowed by weariness and the weight of his own decision. "Because you are my mother, and I love you."

Narcissa smiled, and bade her son good night, content for now that perhaps her family could have a future in this maddening war. Tomorrow, they had another battle to fight.

After taking lunch, the three met with Remus and too their first trip into Salem. Harry was in awe of the scope of the Green and it's enchantments, how the village was sealed by the Wall away from the normal notice of muggles by the heavy enchantments laid down by the Founders.

In a way, it reminded him of Hogwarts. Here, the founding wizards made a place safe for their people, their families and empowered it to remain after them, sustaining itself after their passing.

Trying not to boggle like a common tourist, Harry kept pace with his friends, as they made the short trip from their new home to the Senate. Taking the Walk, Harry was surprised to see a large number of bicycles, foot traffic and even to his shock, an automobile. The clock tower present on the Senate's facing wall let them know it was 2 PM, and even at such a non-peak time, the Walk was teeming with people. Trying to place the village in scope, he would have to admit that Diagon would have fit on the street their flat occupied.

The New England Wizarding Senate, or most often just called the Senate, occupied a large and sprawling building, looking very much like a modern office building sat upon by a church. "I wonder if they're modernizing," he mused as they passed along it's face toward the doors.

"Hard to say. It's certainly an odd building," Tonks added, as they came upon the main doors, and the wizards attending them.

Here again were the rather severely dressed and serious men, wearing their odd glasses and black suits. Eyeing them nervously, Harry was surprise when one simply motioned them in, after giving the three a piercing look. "You are expected in room 2501. Second floor. The directory will show you the way."

As they entered, Harry leaned closer to Remus, who seemed shaken as well. "Is that normal," he asked in a whisper, to which the Werewolf only shrugged.

"I've never spent time in the US, only researched. I suppose there really is only so much you can learn in books," the man remarked, earning a snort from Harry.

"Never tell Hermione that. Her world would collapse."

The small joke lightened the mood, as the three took a rather impressive lift to the next floor, passing very little of the building's contents on the way. Once out of the lift, they saw the mentioned directory, settled on the wall across from them.

At least, that's what the thing said iself to be. Currently it was a blank board. Walking up to, Harry made to reach out and touch the blank space within the frame, but suddenly the number '2501' flashed up, and he hopped back in surprise. As they looked on, the numbers stretched and deformed, growing into a floor plan of their location. A red path lit along it, and they saw their destination, winking balefully in red.

"Two halls down to the left, third door on the right then," Tonks noted, blinking nervously.
"Excuse me," another voice sounded behind them, and the three shuffled quickly to the side, as man addressed the board impatiently, getting his own directions.

Wasting no more time, they marched down the rather nondescript halls, simple tile in a bland faux marble and walls of a white plaster passing numbingly. Harry was becoming confused by the overwhelming sameness, when Tonks stopped, pointing to the door they were before. "Here we are."

Remus looked around them, seeing more doors of the same kind. "I don't see an office title on any of these. I thought we'd be coming to a registry office."

Shrugging, Tonks looked about her and admitted that things did seem to be unusual. "I don't know. Perhaps there's something we're missing."

Looking between the other two, Lupin settled his wand more accessibly, and saw them doing the same. Harry only had his Holly wand with him, and suddenly found himself missing the other one sorely.

Knocking on the door, Lupin was greeted with a terse "Enter!" and the three passed within quietly.

Unlike the hall, the room was comfortably furnished adding to the confusion of the three. Right red carpets, wood paneled walls and portraits looked greeted them, all leading them to a wide, mahogany table. Sitting behind it, was an aged gentleman with short gray hair, rheumy eyes that still had a peircing intensity, and skin that looked like old parchment. Rising with some trouble, the man smoothed his brown suit and gestured to the seats arrayed before the desk. "Please have a seat," the man instructed, seeming quite used to his orders being carried out.

Harry swallowed the dry nervousness that had built up in their trip to the room, and now felt all the more trapped. What had gone wrong? They had taken steps, worked on their stories, hells they weren't here more than a day! Cursing his luck, the Boy-Who-Lived settled in a chair and waited to see what new disaster was brewing.

Regarding them all rather impassively after taking his seat again, the man finally released a rather irritated sigh. "I should have the lot of you locked up."

Holding up a hand to still their protests, the man shook his head slowly. "Be still. Since you aren't, and haven't been yet, obviously there's something else going on, so be still and listen." Taking a rather terse breath, the man looked from one of them to another and nodded shortly. "Your Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour contacted your embassy and warned us you may clumsily try to disguise yourselves, and would be arriving via normal methods into the country. Rest assured had he not contacted us, you would likely have been dragged off the plane stunned and incapacitated."

Wincing, Tonks looked like she would say something but the man again stilled her. "A Werewolf, a celebrity, and a metamorph with government training. What a mess."

Reaching into a drawer, the man pulled out a series of papers, and a small device that looked like a pencil sharpener. "We'll get the important things first. Magically sign these, then place the tip of your wand in the aperture, then cast a minor revealing charm," he said curtly, before sitting back expectantly.

Remus blinked, before leaning forward, placing his hands on the desk. "Who are you?" Tone relaying all the confusion and uncertainty of the day, he was taken aback as the man laughed quietly.

"You would do well, when traveling abroad, to seek more council from your government, but Minister Scrimgeour let us know your circumstances," the man replied, smiling in such a way that it never reached his eyes. "I am Warren Alexander, Director of Immigration and Cultural Affairs, NEWS division. NEWS being our way of referring to the Senate. Less exaggerated."

Taking up a form he'd not put in front of them, he looked back up and the smile, empty as it was, broadened. "You are, Mr. Remus Lupin, currently in the US as an Andrew McDermott," Turning to Harry, he pointed with the paper, and continued. "You sir, are Mr. Harry Potter, entering as Joseph Black. And you Miss, would be Nymphadora Tonks, commonly referred to simply as Tonks, forgive my use of your given name, but you understand my point. We are well aware of your few aliases, but Natalie Thompson seems to be the one of choice, for your visit to our fair country." Settling the form down, he gestured to their own, and raised one brow. "Please, do begin."

Remus, somewhat befuddled, did as he was asked and the process, only took a moment. When he was done, the form reflected his wand composition, age, and a string of numbers. "This is your registration. You'll be issued a copy when we are finished here. Mr. Potter, your turn." When Harry was done, the man simply looked at him with an inscrutable expression and said nothing, moving on to Tonks.

When they were done, the man collected their forms and settled back with a sigh. "I hate it when people assume my offices so stupid as to not be able to see though simple glamors and false paperwork. Your Goblins are good, yes, but lucky for you the Minister contacted us. I'm not going to ask about why and what. That's been explained somewhat." Looking piercingly at Harry, the man continued, "But I insist on an explanation, from you, on why Salem, and what you intend to do here."

Harry had faced a number of intimidating characters, but this man, old and wrinkled and frail looking, exuded authority and threat like no one else he'd met. It was like staring down a trolley. "Sir, we mean no disrespect-"

"Too late for niceties, Mr. Potter. Your answer please."

"Right," grimacing, Harry took a stilling breath. "I came to Salem to learn. The short version is simply that. The longer version would be that I'm here to escape the network of intrigue and politics that wait for me back in England, long enough with people more competent there working in those regards, to learn what I need to return and finish some unpleasant business."

The old man's lips quirked up at Harry's response. "I see Mrs. Black has been a good influence on you. Yes, I have heard of your problems and reasons already. I just wanted to hear you say it yourself," the man explained, leaning back and peaking his hands before him.

Gesturing to the desk, refreshments appeared and he took a glass of cognac for himself. "We will not interfere, but I offer you some advice, Mr. Potter.

"Do no go looking for trouble here. We do not tolerate glory seeking, nor do we typically offer to overlook such ill-conceived ruses," taking a drink from the glass the man regarded them coolly. "Were it not impressed upon me the necessity of your actions, I'd see you thrown back to your island and the border closed to you permanently for this."

Anger growing, Harry's eyes narrowed and he shrugged off the hand Tonks laid on his arm, trying to still him. "Exactly what do you hope to gain, Mr. Alexander, by making the most influential single politician in the Wizengamot very irritated at you?"

The man across from him smiled then, genuinely, putting Harry off balance again. "There. That is what I hoped to see. Mr. Potter, you've not been long in our world, either magical, mundane or political." Gesturing again at the small service of tea, drinks and small biscuits, the man continued as they hesitantly sampled. "I was expecting a pompous, self-important brat, but what I got was a nervous, wary young man. Color me surprised. Back to the point... remember Mr. Potter, that some wars, even some small battles, are fought with many weapons. You have quite a few in your arsenal. Don't let them grow dull and unused."

Nodding quietly, Harry considered the man's words and saw what he'd try to tell him. Figuring this also likely was on Rufus' suggestion, he made a mental note to give the man a piece of his mind when he returned. "I understand, Mr. Alexander. My apologies for not respecting your offices, or my own responsibilities."

"Good, good." Taking up one of the light baked cakes, the man regarded them in a more friendly tone, "Now, back to business, in a more friendly sense. Salem should suit your purposes well. Have you written up a schedule?" At Harry's tentative nod, the man gestured for it, and Harry pulled it from his pocket.

"Remus helped me with classes, as I'm not familiar with the way your schools would equate to ours," he explained, shrugging to Lupin. "Why did you want to see it?"

Grinning up at the young wizard, Warren cast a duplication charm on the paper. "I intend to help you along the way, Mr. Potter. Never let it be said that the NEWS was unwilling to help. On the contrary, we are very interested in seeing your Lord Voldemort defeated. Such is bad politics, after all." Seeing Harry's confusion, the man elaborated, "England is an upstanding member of the world wizarding community, and since this situation began, Her influence has done little but wane. Now, we are on good terms, the US I mean, with a number of European block governments. England, though, is our main ally, both in terms of policy and military situations."

"Military situations?"

"Indeed," nodding to the far wall, Harry noticed then the numerous pictures, maps and documents lining it. "I've been involved in many uprisings, both directly and from these offices. Since Grindelwald, there has been a very... insular policy enacted in your Wizengamot. England has turned her eyes inward, and does not see her potential allies abroad, now."

With a shock, Harry understood this man's words very clearly. "Since Dumbledore took over the position of Chief Warlock."

Smiling over his glass, the man gave him a savage smile. "Precisely. Albus is a fine man, but as of his appointment, little headway has been made between our two fine countries. A shame really, there is quite a lot we could teach and offer one another."

"I... I think I see your point, Mr. Alexander," Harry said carefully. "I will be sure to contact Minister Scrimgeour and inform him of our hopes that that attitude will change."

Standing, the man extended his hand, looking genial and utterly friendly, a far difference from the severe, hostile attitude they'd entered to. "I look forward to progress on that front, Lord Potter."

"Please, just Harry."

"Warren then, I insist." The two shook hands, and behind Harry, Tonks and Remus shared a look.

"Ah, I think we need to be about seeing the rest of the city, Mr. Alexander," Tonks interjected quietly, earning her an amused chuckle from the man.

Crossing from behind his desk, the man handed Harry a small card discreetly, making sure that he closed the young man's hand over it after. "Yes I see I've kept you quite long enough. Salem is a beautiful city, and we are rather proud of the Academy as well. Please, enjoy your stay."

Remus, cottoning on stood and made his way beside Harry to the door. "If we happen to need any other help-"

"I'm sure you can find the appropriate offices, referred by our staff at the main desk," the man finished congenially.

Before they'd really registered it, Warren Alexander had ushered them from the room, and Harry barely had the chance to wish the man good day, before with a chuckle the door closed behind them.

Standing there, the three looked from one another for a minute. Tonks looked slightly scared, while Remus just seemed confused. Harry was deep in thought, but silent.

Finally, it was Tonks that broke the silence, "What... what just happened."

"I think we just got smacked on the nose for being foolish," with a growing grin, Harry removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "That and I was given a message, and a lesson."

Remus gathered his wits and pointed them back toward the lift, as they moved to leave. As they walked, he inquired, "What lesson?"

"You can't escape politics," was Harry's simple reply, as the lift dinged, letting them know it had arrived.

As the afternoon wore on Harry, Remus and Tonks spoke more about their plans, and what needed to be done. Today they would all be recovering from the trip abroad, and the awkward trip to the Senate.

Oswald was called and hired for a modest rate, but they also negotiated for the odd elf to be allowed room and board, as apparently the current situation was for Oswald to return to his current quarters in Boston at the end of each day. Harry wondered if perhaps they should simply summon Dobby, but Remus laughed and requested them not to.

"But why? He's already loyal, and seems perfectly happy to help," Harry wasn't happy about feeling like he'd abandoned another friend, and particularly one as useful as Dobby had proven to be.

Remus smiled, but still would not budge on his point. "The main reason why Harry, is that Dobby is Dobby," seeing the young wizard's confusion and growing irritation, the Werewolf explained. "We are here, to get out of the spotlight. The last thing you need is a half-crazed elf, wandering about extolling the virtues of 'The great wizard Harry Potter sir'."

Wincing, Harry had no other arguments.

Looking back over his class schedule, Harry asked about the other unfamiliar subjects that Remus had suggested. "Alchemical Potions? Artifice? I'm not sure what those are."

Tonks picked up the schedule, and gave Remus a critical look. "Are you sure about this?"

Snatching the paper back, Harry did little to hide his irritation, already exacerbated by their trip to the Senate and the meeting with Alexander. "I appreciate you both trying to help, but a little information goes a long way. I don't like being guided blindly, I've had enough of that, thank you very much."

Voice firm, Remus pushed Harry back down in his seat. "Easy. I'm not planning to send you to the dogs, or loose you blindly. We've been here a day, and we fully intend to explain everything. So save your anger for where it's due, cub."

Sighing, the young wizard nodded and looked apologetically at Tonks and Remus. "Sorry. Just still a bit wound up I suppose."

"Understandable," Lupin agreed gruffly, sitting as well. "Alchemy is a common name for an advanced kind of potion making, that normally would not be taught at Hogwarts. Some schools vary the amount of actual magic involved, and after watching Snape's lessons, I think we may need to have you do some preemptive study this year."

"I may not have gotten top marks but I wasn't horrible-"

"That isn't what I meant," Lupin cut Harry off, before his rant could build steam. "Snape was a piss-poor teacher. He wasn't cut out to do the job. He was an excellent Potions Master, but that doesn't mean anything when it comes to being qualified to teach others." Sighing, the Werewolf sat a textbook down on the table by the schedule and tapped it with a finger. "This is a good remedial text. We'll set up a small lab so you can practice some of the simpler topics."

Feeling like a fool for his overreacting, Harry simply nodded quietly. Looking back over the paper, he noticed it was a grade one class and his brow furrowed. "Remus, this should be my sixth year. Isn't there a level of the equivalent class I could take?"

Scanning the schedule, Remus saw Harry's mistake. "You forgot to look over the required classes, and the full description. This isn't Potions I, it's a conglomerate class using principles from Transfiguration and Potions disciplines."

Embarrassed, Harry just nodded and looked over the list more carefully. Shortly he realized that the list was coded so he could look up the actual class descriptions in an added text, that would detail each course. Coming to the next class on the list he'd wondered about, his brow rose. "Creating magical devices, empowering items temporarily and permanently, and the understanding of the principles allowing this. Sounds complicated."

Grinning, Tonks reached over and took their salt shaker in hand, murmuring and incanting a moment. Shortly, the item glowed blue briefly and went back to normal. "Back home, we had separate offices for some aspects of that, and it was controlled. Portkeys, are an artifice skill. You temporarily empower an item to allow instant travel. It could also be argued to be a charm, with a transfiguration effect. Disciplines aren't wholly separate."

"Why wasn't there a class on this at Hogwarts then?"

Wincing, Tonks loosed a sigh and canceled the enchantment on the shaker. "The Ministry didn't want students learning how to make Portkeys too soon. Offices of licensing control who is taught that."

Looking between Tonks and Lupin, Harry shook his head, "But the Death Eaters had Portkeys. How do you explain that?"

Tonks rolled her eyes and took up her water. "You don't expect them to follow the law, do you?"

Letting the subject go, Harry saw what they'd tried to impart. The Ministry, hoping to control people to keep another uprising from occurring, limited people so much that when the next, or in this case most recent, dark wizard returned they had so much power as to be nearly unstoppable. "It's so stupid. People could escape so easy if they could travel freely, or learn better wards, or knew spells to fight."

"Ah, but better wards would keep out the government and allow citizens too much security. What need then of the taxes, used to fund not only the Aurors, but the Ministry itself? Freely available transportation without restriction would make monitoring who was and was not in the country very difficult, and therefore even harder to track. Teaching people battle-worthy magics is asking for rebellion." Remus smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Can you honestly see Fudge, that skittish little fool, managing the Ministry with half as much control on those things?"

Laughing, Harry had to admit that Lupin had a point. The more freedoms a people had, the less control a government had on them. The Ministry's actions since Grindelwald was proof that a reactionary leadership without solid grounding in civilian life was destined to fail, and fall.

Wondering at his own logic, Harry reviewed quietly, as Remus and Tonks argued mildly over something. Was the Ministry destined to fall? Rather, could it truly do so? As an office under another actual governing body, namely the Queen, what would happen if the Ministry became utterly ineffective? Supposedly the Queen had to have some knowledge of the Ministry, or was the agreement such that once created, the offices would disappear from knowledge?

More questions, without obvious answers. As they settled down to a simple afternoon meal, Harry considered what he'd learned already. Judging from what he knew of Voldemort's education, that being initially Hogwarts, simply what he was doing gave him an edge. Considering he also had the second wand, something easy enough to attain in truth, he also had that as an advantage, against the brother wand effect, were that to occur again. Voldemort may have thought of this as well, but at least Harry had the option too.

The unknowns were what distressed him. What did he learn from Grindelwald? What knowledge could have been passed on, and what would be the effect of it? Was Voldemort's seeming immortality due to that knowledge? Again, Harry wished Dumbledore having known his prophecy, simply confided in him.

Thoughts of the Headmaster brought on a raging headache, and Harry stood, excusing himself. "Wait, what about setting up your identity, Harry?"
Tonks' voice made him hesitate, and the young wizard just leaned on the foyer doorway, looking up the stairs toward his room. "I'll have to do it later. I'm not going to be able to focus on it tonight." Without another word, he left the two adults peering after him curiously.

"Wonder what's bothering him," Tonks wondered, knowing well how much was on the young man. She was more interested in which particular thing it was, that as telling on him so harshly.

Remus folded the various papers back into a manageable state, and set them aside neatly. Considering them a moment, he took one and handed it to the young woman. "I'd wager he's worried about Ron and Hermione. Or perhaps the meeting with our Mr. Alexander still has him shaken. We can try to help, but it'll take some work. If not that... well. There's a lot of things. Perhaps he's just feeling the weight of all that's on him."

Nodding, Tonks had to admit, the prophecy on it's own was a heavy burden. Harry just seemed to collect more, rather than shed those things he'd had before. Looking over the paper she'd been handed, her eyes widened slightly. "Where did you get this?"

On the sheet was a map, rough and approximate, of the US with a number of darkened areas. Each one held a small glyph over it, many of which looked like crudely cut pictographs. "This is a rough map of the clans and their borders, from a few years ago. It's not uncommon for one such as me to find one, so that they can either go about their business quickly, or foul up and get killed before upsetting the status quo."

When Tonks made a move to hand it back, Remus shook his head. "I have a copy," he replied shortly. "This is in case you must find me. I'll try to leave word of which area, what clan I'm going to see, but I have to stress only to seek me out in emergencies. Most of these clans aren't very friendly to outsiders."

"I doubt we'd be able to find them anyway. Don't they hide themselves like back home?"

"Sometimes," Remus replied carefully, but didn't say more. Tonks shortly found herself weary as well, and figuring it would take some time to become accustomed to the new time change, went to reacquaint herself with the lovely bed her rooms afforded her.

Used to much later nights, Remus stayed awake well into the night, listening to the world outside. The Green, the nearby flats, apartments and homes. As the moon rose outside, he grimaced, seeing how far along to full it was becoming. Another week, at most.

Shortly he'd need to acquire by some means the Wolfsbane he needed to keep his mind during the Change, and lessen it's hold on him. Unlike Snape, he was no Potions Master, and such a thing was simply beyond his skill to make. Leaning back, his head banged into the nearby wall but he didn't blink or unfix his gaze from the moon overhead.

Would his errand succeed? Could he find those of his kind, that knew how to harness and contain their lesser self? Would he be able to understand such a thing? Closing his eyes, Lupin tried to imagine a world in which he could be a person, not an animal.

He was secretly glad of Harry's naïvety, as that kept the harsher questions at bay. Rubbing idly at his shoulder, where long ago the bite that had turned him still burned on occasion, Lupin wondered at what those here knew that he didn't. Supposedly Grayback was immensely powerful for a Werewolf, and there was a broken kind of regard for him on the continent, what small time he'd spent there.

Back home, there were murmurings of other pack leaders, also immensely strong and able to rule small communities and even kingdoms, of their kind. Lupin boggled at such a thing. Lycanthropy to him was a disease, that would be like... shaking his head, the man sighed and let the legs of his chair clatter to the floor.

Perhaps Harry had the right idea. Stilling his mind, the Werewolf sought his room, and hoped that this night his dreams would not be haunted by nightmares bearing his own form. Tomorrow would begin their lessons, and hopefully the real beginning of their time in Salem. It would do well to get a good night's rest.

A/N: Clarifications;

Lind is not in the US to observe Europe's views on Grayback, but the packs present in the US and the attitudes of the wizarding community there. Hence her need to be in Salem, and close to what equates to a cultural center. Civilian, government and education all observable. It doesn't make sense to think she would be in Salem otherwise.

The continuing theme of government and politics, though again apparent, isn't the main theme of the story. Harry just has yet to find his role in that completed.