Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know!

A double-dose this week! The regular chapter post will also come out tomorrow, so stay tuned. Also, a big Happy Birthday to Chris Evans, who turns 31 today. He played the role of Mace in "Sunshine".

Posted June 13, 2012.

-CHAPTER 13-

RECOVERY AND PROGRESS

Even with the early hour, Albus Dumbledore was still up and about, already at his desk. His days always started early, after all. It was just a little after 5 am local time, when the floo fired, and a rather irate red head appeared in the flames.

"Professor? Are you there?"

"William. What can I do for you, my boy?" the Headmaster greeted, crossing the floor.

"Did you know?"

"Did I know what?"

"That Jason was a Horcrux?" Bill's features were a mask of anger, even in the orange glow of the flames.

"Alas, I certainly considered the possibility. I suspect he has told you about the incident in the Chamber of Secrets seven years ago?" At Bill's nod, Dumbledore continued, "I suspected then, we were dealing with truly dark magic. At the conclusion of Harry's fifth year, I was all but certain of it. It is the reason Harry can connect with Voldemort, among other things."

"You mean, was. The bloody thing came out of him tonight, Dumbledore! Jason could have died! His mate could have died! WE could have died, because of your bloody secrets!"

Dumbledore was alarmed. A Horcrux leaving its container? That wasn't how those things worked... he was sure of it. "Where is Harry now?"

"Upper Canada Hospital... and quite frankly, you're the last person he will want to see." Bill's face vanished from the fire.

After a quick note was dispatched to McGonagall, the headmaster travelled by floo powder to the Ministry. He knew better than to just directly port key across the pond, considering Canadian authorities didn't like unannounced international port keys. After all, it was one of the reasons Canada hadn't been invaded by Voldemort—or any other dark wizard, for that matter. Harry fleeing to Canada was both a blessing and a curse in that way. He was inaccessible, to both the light AND the dark.

Just after 1:30 local time, Dumbledore arrived at Upper Canada Hospital by floo powder, having first cleared the ministry using his ICW credentials. He approached the reception counter, which surprising had no queue. St. Mungo's always had a queue of people needing assistance. He cleared his throat.

"Yes?" questioned the bored looking witch behind the counter.

"Here to see Mr. Potter."

"Mr. Who?"

"Ah... Mr... Black, I mean," Dumbledore begrudgingly corrected himself.

"Very well. Fourth floor, room four sixty-eight," answered the witch, consulting a chart. Dumbledore's eyes flicked to the floor guide on the wall behind her. Of course it would be considered some sort of spell damage.

He'd been in Upper Canada Hospital a few times, and always found it so much different than St. Mungo's in London. Given the approach the Canadian Wizarding community took, always moving forward, it was in some ways unsettling. They embraced the advancement of technology, pushing a great number of Wizarding methods aside. The electric lights providing illumination in the hospital's corridors were a very prominent example of that. But the Wizarding community had it right here. Being a witch or a wizard was only a small part of who someone was, and with that acknowledgement, their society was in a much better place. Dumbledore knew the statistics on witches and wizards leaving England, and it was no surprise a good number of Muggle-borns had fled to Canada. In fact, if he had is information correct, the current Minister for Magic was a Muggle-born. He knew he would have a nearly impossible time convincing Harry to return to England.

Dumbledore arrived at the young wizard's assigned room, having passed two crimson-robed Aurors out by the healer's station. Most unusual, ministry security inside the hospital? He pushed the door open, and entered the room. A number of people turned around, hearing the door open. No surprise, the eldest Weasley was there, along with his parents. How had they managed to get international clearance so fast? He filed that away for later. The Granger girl was there—another stunning surprise, as was the youngest Weasley boy. Rounding out the visitors, the man he'd seen at Harry's hearing... Mace, if he remembered the name correctly, along with another man who he'd not seen before.

"I'm warning you, Dumbledore. Upset him an inch, you'll be leaving horizontal," Bill hissed.

"I am only concerned," Dumbledore answered, schooling his features. "I only wish to know exactly what happened. All of you realize, this is some truly dark magic at work."

"Yes, I know that headmaster. This is not the first one we've encountered, though for some reason I'm sure you already know."

"And I assume, now, the fragment has been destroyed."

"A combination of Fawkes, cheering charms, and Mace's, err... weapon, whatever it is he can do," answered Hermione, coldly. It was clear she was equally angry at the headmaster.

"Finally nailed it in the face, it blew into ashes," Mace finally added, scowling. "So tell me, old man. When would you have told him?"

"All in due time, my boy."

"Let's get one thing straight. I'm not your boy. Don't ever call me that, or I'll nail you again, and I promise you, it won't be in the arm next time," Mace said, dangerously, "So tell us again. When would you have actually been honest?" The door opened again, with Sandra and Ty entering the room.

"What happened?" Sandra asked, crossing the floor to look in on her client. In the dim light, he looked ashen, his cursed scar looking even more angry and unnatural than ever. The young man muttered something incomprehensible, shifted slightly, half-opened his eyes, then closed them again. She assumed he was likely dosed with several potions at this point, and wouldn't be answering any questions in person.

"Jason...had a Horcrux inside him. It was in his scar," said Mace, casting yet another withering glare toward the headmaster. "We were... we were in the shower and when we came out, he... he collapsed. Then this thing... this shade-like thing come out of his scar."

"Please tell me you killed it." Sandra looked horrified.

"It's gone. It turned to ashes when I nailed it with an ice shard. We were just asking the headmaster here if he was aware of it... and more importantly, when exactly he was going to tell Jason about it."

Mace smirked, as the attorney rounded on the ancient wizard. "Is this true, Dumbledore? You left a BOY to be tormented by something so foul and evil? Albus Dumbledore. You DISGUST ME!"

Dumbledore's features darkened, and he looked like he'd just swallowed several very sour lemons. Harry's solicitor knew exactly how to inflict the most emotional pain, and she'd done just that, as he felt like he were in a memory. Except that in that memory, it was he, saying the same thing to a certain potions master.

"I do have many regrets, Miss Fraser," said Dumbledore, quietly.

"No, only thing you regret, old man, is being caught," said Mace, acidly, casting yet another withering gaze toward the headmaster.

Hermione chose that moment to finally speak her mind on the matter. "We all trusted you, Professor. How could you! How could you just throw Jason to the wolves as you did? And drag us down with him! I would've expected this sort of thing from Malfoy, but from you? I hope you're truly happy with yourself!"

"Headmaster. Get. Out," said Mace, getting up. He'd grown tired of the old man, and his normally soft eyes blazed with fury.

"I assure you..."

"Leave. 'fore I do something I won't regret." Several others stood up to back up Jason's mate, and Sandra actually drew her wand. Dumbledore sighed, and gave them all his patented 'I'm so disappointed' look, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Good riddance," Ron finally muttered.

"Now what exactly happened?"

"Bill... you know where Jason's pensieve is, right?" said Mace. Bill gave a nod, and left the room. "Rather than try and explain this shit... holy fuck..."

"Here. Calming draught," Hermione offered, digging in her bag.

"Thanks."

"And I thought our, um... adventures were crazy," said Capa, shaking his head.

"Strongly doubt anything you pair got up to could ever compare to the things Ron, Jason, and I got into," said Hermione, "Not one year got by without something outrageous going on."

"Doesn't help that he is You-Know-Who's number one target," Mrs. Weasley piped up.

"No, it doesn't," Hermione agreed, "But still. Until this summer, it's been nothing but a series of disasters, come to think of it."

"Including him meeting me and Capa," Mace agreed, furrowing his brow, "Not that I'd... want that not to happen... and Jason would agree."

"Yes, the pair of you are good for one another. There's been a couple of those incidents that did do some good... Sirius when he escaped back in our third year. Of course you know he was Jason's godfather."

"And the Tri-wizard tournament," Ron added, "I mean, at least part of it, Hermione!" His wife looked about ready to hex him. "Think about it. He met Cedric."

"Yeah. Jason's told me lots about him." Mace leaned back in his chair. "He still gets nightmares about him... but I think the, uh... Occlumency helps."

"It should. It's an advanced but useful kind of magic," said Ty, "All of us have to know it in order to protect attorney-client privilege."

Bill finally returned, bringing Jason's pensieve with him. He conjured up a small table, and set it down, while Mace pulled the appropriate memory from his mind. "I won't be coming with you. Shit's just too fucked up for me to see it again. Bad enough me having to pull it up."

"I'll go with them," Ron offered, "I was there for most of it."

When they returned, Sandra looked even more livid than she already was. Ty looked like he was going to be ill. Sandra took a seat in a conjured chair. "I'll put more pressure on the ICW to convene a tribunal. Dumbledore's really crossed a line this time."

"Where would they do it? The hearing?" asked Capa.

"It'll likely be held in Geneva, since that is the ICW's seat. If Jason wants, I could certainly file an application to have the tribunal held here in Toronto, but no promises."

"I'll ask what he wants," said Mace.

"Don't be surprised if this lays him out for a while," said Bill, "We fought truly dark magic tonight, the lot of us."

"Still feel like I need a shower." Mace reached up and rubbed the back of his head. "That thing, it felt... slick, oily, dirty."

"The nature of the dark arts. It goes away after a while. I've experienced that working in Egypt a few years ago. Nothing as dark as tonight, but stuff over there that could compare to it."

For the next week, Jason continued to suffer the effects of the soul fragment's attack, as did Mace, although nowhere near as severe. The pair cancelled the usual lessons, deciding it would be a waste of their time. The house itself better resembled a hotel for a while, as a crowd of people were constantly about, all concerned about their friend.

If anything, the crowd of friends around him helped, and by the following weekend, Jason was back on his feet. He was visited by a healer that Saturday afternoon, and given a clean bill of health, much to his relief. The remarks that he 'still needed rest' was starting to grate on him, causing him to be short with everyone, bordering on downright wasp-ish. Needless to say, as soon as the healer was gone, both Jason and Mace were gone on Jason's broom for the remainder of the afternoon.

Jason at last slowed down, as they pulled up through the small creek that crossed the property.

"God, I was going mad, I think."

"Agreed. Nope, definitely not astronaut material, Jason."

"Piss off." It was all in jest, though, and Mace knew it. Still, he gave his mate a good poke in the ribs.

"Hey!" Jason smirked, and rolled the broom, forcing Mace to grab onto Jason's waist before he fell off. And, even though they came up right again, Mace didn't let go, but simply put his head on Jason's shoulder. It was easy enough, considering he was easily a head taller than Jason was.

"At least you don't have that thing in your head anymore."

"Conceded. Y'know, I've not felt one single twitch in my scar since. I gotta wonder, if maybe that was why I could hear him, see what he was doing sometimes."

"Makes sense to me, as fucked up as that sounds. New meaning to hearing voices."

"Yeah, a bad thing no matter which world you're from," said Jason, frowning. He brightened, and said, "It's one less problem. Just like the nightmares. Occlumency has really helped that too. I'm half-way back to being sane again." That earned a chuckle from his mate. "I only said half-way. Don't make me roll the broom again."

October 2, 2000

ICW Judiciary Panel, Geneva, Switzerland

"...so it is, I believe most imperative we move forward with this tribunal with a short date, seeing as the accused has committed most serious crimes against a number of individuals, my client among them."

"False imprisonment. That's a serious charge, counsellor," said one of the panel members. There were ten members of the panel, made up of magistrates from a number of Wizarding nations that made up the confederation. They had been picked of random, and as was the rule, given the fact the accused was English, no one from England was chosen to sit on the panel for the hearing.

"One of the lesser charges. Falsifying testimony in a trial, a trial which he participated in as a judge—or sat on, in the case of the English Wizengamot. Your honours, this is not the way a progressive Wizarding community conducts justice. It is time we as an international community show Wizarding Britain the error of their ways, and prevent travesties such as these from happening in the future."

"You also wish to have the location of the trial changed to Toronto. On what grounds?"

"I believe it may be better suited if the tribunal is seated in a nation outside of Europe, so the jury pool may be fair and impartial. It is a fair comparison to the fact no English judge sits among you."

"A fair argument, I do concede," said an ancient dark-skinned wizard down the row.

"Very well, counsellor, we have heard your application. We will take a moment to consider it." A silencing charm went up, and the group of judges congregated.

Nearly ten minutes later, the panel retook their seats, and the silencing charm was dispelled.

"Counsellor. We have considered the two applications before us. Since apposing counsel either deemed it unnecessary or not worth their while to appear in person, we find both arguments you have presented to be fair and compelling." The speaker waved her wand, and a stack of parchment lifted from a table just below the raised platform where the panel of judges sat, and floated over to Sandra. A second set of documents folded themselves up into a paper airplane, and zoomed out of the room. "The tribunal will convene at the Canadian Ministry of Magic in December of this year. A date and time will be announced as the parties involved are processed and notified. That is all."

"Thank you, your honours."

"Excellent, Mr. Black. And now if you'll pop back into the first circle." The Ministry Apparition instructor was a wiry, tall man with sandy hair and a tall face. Jason gave a slight shift, and vanished from where he was standing, with a very loud crack, to reappear in a hoop about a hundred feet away. The practice circles had been set up in the back yard. "Well done! And back to me!" Crack. Jason reappeared in the spot he'd just left. The instructor looked him over quickly, clearly proud of the young wizard. He'd picked up the concepts of Apparition rather quickly. "I believe you're ready for your exam, Mr. Black. Now if only your partner here could catch up."

Mace frowned at the jab at his ego. He understood the theory. Putting it into practice, however. At least a quarter of his Apparition attempts resulted in a splinching. Luckily at this point nothing too painful—usually a tuft of hair, a fingernail, the likes. The instructor was able to fix things quickly, but it did nothing to bolster the new wizard's ego.

Still, he was more than happy for his boyfriend. Apparition was a useful skill to have, but it wasn't the end of the world if Mace couldn't do it flawlessly. The lesson was over for the day, and the pair went inside the house with the instructor following, where lunch was already waiting.

"Shall I schedule an official Apparition test then?" the instructor asked.

"No. Not until—" Jason began.

Mace cut him off. "Yeah. Go for it, Jason. Don't let me hold you back."

"I wanted..."

"I know. Look, I'm still new at all this shit."

Jason blew out a breath. "Really wanted us to do this together, you know. Fine, all right." Disappointed, he glanced at the instructor. "Set up the exam then."

"We can probably get you in sometime early next week then. I'll still continue to come by just the same, see if we can't get Mr. Mace up to scratch."

A week later, on October 9, both Mace and Jason travelled by floo powder to the Ministry of Magic in Toronto, where Jason took his Apparition test. Once again bolstered by the presence of his boyfriend, he passed with flying colours. He was given a small card, much like one would receive in the Muggle world on passing their driver's test. Jason celebrated this milestone by Apparating them both to a rather expensive little restaurant in London (Ontario, not England, just to be clear). The restaurant staff almost threw them out considering their appearance, but the presentation of several large denominations of currency very quickly changed their tune. Jason could've transfigured their clothes into something more presentable, but he wasn't really in the mood. Not to mention, last thing he needed was to be cited for doing magic in front of Muggles.

AUTHOR NOTES: Up next... Dumbledore gets some unwanted visitors from overseas, as does Professor Snape; Jason and Mace also get some unwanted visitors, and Jason faces a terrifying prospect in the resulting fallout. Hang on, things are about to get a little bumpy...