Chapter 12 - Ollivander's Redemption

Standard disclaimer – don't own any of JK Rowling's works, nor am I profiting from them.

Summary: Harry and Kenji returned to Diagon Alley and met with the core members of the DA. The remaining Death Eaters attacked during the grand reopening of many of the shops and in the ensuing battle Ron, Luna, and Ginny were all wounded. Harry and Kenji with the help of Neville stalled the Death Eaters until the arrival of the Aurors. Doholov conjured Fiendfyre and sent it towards the fleeing families near the Wizard Wheezes.

A/N: Thanks for all the new favorites and alerts added to this story since the last update. I am glad to see you all onboard to enjoy the story and help keep my writing honest. I have noticed a dearth of good stories and a tidal wave of smut permeating this site recently and would like to keep my story clean from the drek out there, so review and comment! Gabrielle fans, it's next chapter.

His feelings for Ginny won out … almost. There were too many families and if he could do anything to save them, he would. Before he though too much more about the fiery witch, he shifted to the front of George's store. Taking a deep breath after seeing the oncoming rush of cursed flame, he dared a glance back to the windows in the store front. He sought out and found Ginny's beautiful doe brown eyes with his sorrowful ones and mouthed the words he so desperately wished he told her sooner.

"I love you."

Ginny saw Harry reappear in front of the store and her immediate joy died on her lips when she saw his grave face looking towards the Leaky Cauldron. She glanced over and saw the cursed fire barreling down the Alley. Feeling his gaze back on her, she saw the incredible sorrow and disappointment in his eyes as he said those words she always dreamed of hearing. Why is he so sad and ... devastated? Her temper flared at how upset he looked in his admission, but as he stayed outside and slowly turned back to the flames, she knew. She knew it wasn't a confession, it was a lamenting goodbye.

Hermione barred her way through the door and before Ginny could throw a hex or fist, she had wrapped the youngest Weasley in a crushing hug. Ginny's temper lasted only a moment before she totally broke down and started screaming at Harry, cursing his nobility and his selflessness. Drowned out in the tirade was Hermione's own heart breaking so violently, she felt Harry had to hear it. The most important friend they both had was probably going to die as they watched. Hermione had no idea what Harry was planning, and didn't care; she watched Crabbe burn and knew Harry would too.

Harry felt their anguish but he dared not turn around, lest his resolve crack and run back to those that he loved. But that was selfish, to put his wants over the needs of those other families. His brain knew that his childhood abuse made him value his life less than others, the classic self-loathing born from a lack of unconditional love, but it was the first time his heart was immersed in it. He loved Ginny, that was certain, and he loved Hermione just as much, but it wasn't enough to turn back. He felt betrayed by Dumbledore as the final pieces of his predestined life slid into place.

His abuse, his ability to empathize, to sacrifice for others, they all led to his voluntary sacrifice to Tom Riddle. All of it was also an albatross around his neck, it left no room for real love, real partnering of one's self. Harry snarled aloud at the life and realizations flashing before his eyes. His time and focus on those thoughts were a luxury he didn't have right now. He needed a plan, any plan against the cursed fire.

He noticed that the Death Eaters were retreating, obviously confident that their message had been sent. He stared into the Fiendfyre searching for any hope to save the lives in the Alley, and smiled slightly when he saw an opening.

Doholov gritted his teeth in frustration; they lured Harry Potter out from whatever American hole he was living in, but now his fifteen minutes were up. The warning words from Augustus rang sharply in his ears, and he idly wondered if a compulsion charm was used to give him a bit more incentive. He would have to rely on triggering Potter's wand, so that the token Ministry officials and more importantly, their Hit Wizards could finish the job. They had already attacked his best friends and his ex-girlfriend and still he used no magic. He was either a coward or had hardened his heart against the suffering of others. The Gryffindor would have usually charged headfirst into the situation, but this new Harry Potter had coordinated an ambush with his companion and drawn them into a crossfire. It was almost ... Slytherin.

But he knew that noble streak was entrenched, both he and his Lord had counted on it time and again to leverage the Potter scion. How hardened was his heart? He would put that question to the ultimate test and sent the cursed fire down the Alley. The public relations hit that they had hoped to inflict would be mitigated somewhat by the magical return of Harry Potter, but nonetheless, the Ministry would be seen as impotent against his Death Eaters. All of those issues would be inconsequential if the Boy-Who-Lived became the wizard who burned.

"Die Potter." He grinned savagely as he spared one moment to see his handiwork torch the abandoned storefronts. He apparated away at the sixteen minute mark, and true to their contacts' word, nearly a minute later the secondary Auror response team arrived.

Harry peered into the hellish flames, noting at once the Fade that gave life to them; Fiendfyre wasn't a curse, it was a summons. The spirit or whatever Arcane being that was given life in the flames sought freedom once unleashed. Only a powerful wizard like Dumbledore or … Tom could direct and control it. He knew his skill wasn't enough, but it wouldn't have to be. Harry just needed to draw it in to delay it. Keep its focus on you and control the spirit. He was sweating in nervousness, but he lied to himself and said it was from the flames; there was no room for weakness or doubt.

He focused on the silvery threads amongst the furious vermillion and began tracing it back to the spirit within. As soon as he saw the small mote of raw magic, Harry seized upon it and extended his training outside of his own mind to encompass it. As the agony dropped him to his knees, Harry bitterly thought of his father and his anguished face. Hideki was not lying about the pain. His vision blurred until that silvery mote was all that filled his vision. He urged it closer, struggling against its desire to roam. It was far too agonizing to corral it completely, so Harry did the only thing he could. He cleaved a small piece of the spirit off as he drew in the Fade. It was only marginally less excruciating, but it definitely got its attention.

The dragon's head snarled in anger and swooped low to regard the lone teenager in the street. While not completely sentient, the flames knew the pain came from him. Hurtling down the street, it instinctively drove to reclaim what he had taken.

SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! Harry wanted its attention but not to fight it. He remembered that Ginny was probably still watching him, which bolstered his confidence and bravado. Just don't let her see you piss yourself. There was no spell that he knew, no miraculous unknown wand magic, no magical soul bond to stave off the flames. He felt Kreacher appear next to him, anxious to provide help to his Master. Harry didn't dare shift his gaze, but ordered his elf to protect the store no matter what.

"Kreacher, you will stay in the store and maintain the wards, no matter what. Even if I fall. Especially if I fall." Harry blinked back tears of frustration and fought back a strangled sob, "Tell Ginny …" His dutiful elf didn't need to hear the words or the commands that would follow. He nodded to himself, touched his Master's hand in remembrance, and reappeared in the store.

Ginny's hot tears ran down her face and were soaking Hermione's shirt, but when her last hope of Harry's elf returning with his Master failed, she knew his fate. "Where is Harry, why didn't you bring him here?" Her strained screaming made Kreacher wince, but he had to follow his orders. "Mistress Ginny, it is the only way, he is … sadly, a most remarkable wizard." Whatever else Kreacher wanted to say was drowned out by the oncoming rush of fire and heat.

Harry felt the flames lapping at his enchanted cloak and wondered how long the fire resistant runes would last against cursed fire. Ever since he burned Stevens to death, he took the same precautions himself. The answer to his question didn't have to wait long, when the dragon's maw clamped on his left arm the burning began in earnest. Harry shut his eyes to the pain and the intensity of the flames, opening them slightly every few seconds to check on the families' retreat.

He wasn't sure what was worse, the burning or the teeth piercing his cloak; it all merged into one unrelenting sensation. Damn families, get moving! Harry gritted his teeth; no one would survive if he waited to die. He whimpered against his teeth, knowing what was coming. Maintain your focus, if you die, Ginny dies. He screamed in pain as he opened his mind and body, pulling in all the raw magic the spirit had to offer.

Ginny heard the primal scream, but had no idea what was happening. Harry was still wreathed in flames. Even if he wasn't, she wasn't sure if she could handle seeing the carnage the Fiendfyre would deliver. As the flames receded, she saw Harry emerging clothed in … molten silver? It was dripping off of him, distorting his features, but she still saw the tortured face and silent scream of her wizard. His agony bore him to his knees, but the flames continued to ebb. As the last of the flames dissipated, Harry began retching great gouts of thick silver as he sunk slowly to the ground.

She saw his friend quickly arrive by his side and felt a pang of jealousy. That should be me. He whispered quickly into Harry's ear and gestured to his right hand. He wearily raised his wand and a white hot beam of light shot straight into the air. Within a few moments, his beloved holly wand vibrated violently, surged, and finally exploded in Harry's hand. The shock on Harry's face belied the sadness at seeing his wand shatter into nothingness. He clenched his wand hand to a fist and the air shimmered as he conjured some kind of shield. He looked exhausted and pained. Ginny's body ached to hold and comfort him. It tore at her heart to see him so vulnerable and helpless.

Harry knew the trace had been activated and it was mere moments before the Unspeakables, the Ministry, Death Eaters, or whomever would arrive. Azkaban, more exile, the killing curse? It won't matter unless I discharge more of the Fade… An idea blossomed in his mind something to repay his sempai and continue his legacy.

"Kenji" his fire ravaged voice was faint but urgent; the Ministry would be here soon. "I can try and destroy your binding, like Riddle did for me. The Fade … we can flood your core, fracture it … you could be magical again, or … or you could die." He managed to look Kenji square in the eyes with a sense of urgency. They had seconds at most.

A quick nod from his sempai and Harry grabbed his wrist and let go of his control. Kenji thought he knew pain, had trained his whole life to ignore and accept it, but this was different. It was the first time Harry ever heard him scream and he sympathized. He knew the pain intimately; it had no comparison and, sadly, no relief. Kenji fell to his left, whether he was dead or unconscious from the pain, he had no idea.

The Potter scion's panting subsided, exorcising the Fiendfyre's raw magic through Kenji and breaking his wand lessened one burden while creating a new one. As he felt the appearance of the Ministry and Hit Wizards, he began to know how much trouble he was in, with no wand, little control and families still in harm's way. Through the prism of his shield, he noted the seven wizards that arrived to his location. The garish blue cloaks of the Hit Wizards clothed four of them and while two of the Ministry looked surprised at seeing Harry Potter, the other Ministry worker and four trained killers were not. Harry memorized their faces. If he lived his answers would be extracted from them first.

Spells crashed across the prismatic shield Harry created from the Fade. He allowed a quick glance to his mentor and saw him struggling to get to his feet, retching in pain. Kenji's withering glare silenced all stupid questions Harry might have asked. He has a point, "Are you ok?" seems a bit ridiculous to ask. "We have to get you out of here. Are you ready?" The sohei nodded and weakly rolled the last canister towards the blue robes.

"Leave them something, kohai. For their actions, there must be consequences. You saw what I saw." Harry jerked his head in attention and winced at Kenji's assessment. He was no joyful killer, but knew something was required. They had to fear crossing him and hunting him down like a criminal. There was more than enough raw magic for what he planned. He meticulously aimed his burnt index finger at a Hit Wizard. Serious injury is their job hazard and this bastard knew of the trace.

It was the first time Harry consciously focused on intent and effect and not what spell he wanted to mimic or the wand movement needed to produce it. He knew what he wanted and the Fade leapt to do his bidding…

Hermione's hand throbbed from Ginny's crushing grip. The crimson haired witch first clamped down on Hermione's hand as she watched Harry immolated on the spot. She had to prop Ginny up to prevent her from fainting dead to the ground. As the flames subsided and Harry staggered to his feet, Ginny returned the favor by nearing jerking Hermione back as she craned to see her wizard. Luckily, Hermione detached her grip before the Hit Wizards had arrived. Judging by the curse colors, the Ministry's original orders were to take Harry alive, if at all possible. As the colors morphed into purple and then blacks, she disregarded that first assumption. Kreacher refused exit for any of Harry's friends, and after much cursing of the elf, they sat in stunned silence watching the battle.

Secretly, Hermione was relieved they were prevented from leaving. She knew they would have fallen against the wizards' onslaught, the only thing keeping Harry and his companion alive was his shield. As for the shield, she had no idea what magic it was and it reminded her of Kreacher's admission as Harry and his companion left the store. It meant a visit to the Hogwarts' library was in order. As the last canister weakly dribbled in between the two groups and engulfed the space between them in darkness, she noted the conversation between the two raven haired wizards. Her eyes widened when Harry pointed a finger in lieu of his wand at the nearest Hit Wizard. His spherical shield thickened near his finger tip and Harry gave his best friend and others a meaningful glance.

"GET DOWN!" Ginny's scream snapped them all out of their observations. Only George and Ginny knew exactly what Harry was capable of. As the white hot light emerged through the dark shroud in the Alley, the vibration from the spell shattered the glass windows in the storefronts. Hermione watched in horror as the beam cleaved the Hit Wizard's arm like a hot knife through butter. The beam left a silver sheen at the amputation point which then burst into flames, turning the unfortunate soul into a human torch.

Harry grabbed Kenji's semi-conscious body, focused on the blooming cherry blossoms and bamboo grove of Mt. Hiei and without a sound shifted into the Void leaving behind the carnage in the Alley and the horrified faces of his closest friends.

"Hideki!" Harry's wild shouting drew his Healer from the reflecting pool back into their home. As the elder Saito reentered the house, his concern melted away into restrained hope. There was his son, screaming in pain, but the magic radiating off of him was palpable. "Kenji …", Hideki breathed a sigh of relief as his son met his gaze and slowly nodded. "It was the wand, father. It … ruptured when Harry was releasing his magic."

Hideki understood and gently clapped Harry on the shoulder, "This is twice you have saved our family Harry, we are in your debt." He shook his head numbly as Kenji's words sunk in. I'm a wizard without a wand. The only wand that could have helped now, I destroyed in a childish rage. Harry groaned when his healer tried to tell him of that exact wand that could corral the primal form of magic. "You are uniquely familiar with it, in fact your former Headmast …" Harry cut him off and finally admitted his recklessness, "I broke the Elder Wand … I was angry."

"Dammit!" Harry roared as he kicked the exposed beam in his sempai's room. Hideki saw the angst and depression begin to settle in, Harry needed to move, to do something, it was the only way he knew to combat his brooding. Without the trace, Harry was free to do wanded magic to ease his transition, but he needed a wand. If everything went according to plan, they would actually need two. He left the room and returned moments later; he threw the shimmering cloak into Harry's arms. "I need you to search your Potter vaults for anything about the Elder Wand or on wand crafting. If not, you will have to purchase a wand."

"Hideki, you know all of those wands are catalogued by the Ministry as well as I do. And we saw how a normal wand reacts to the Fade" he held up his burned and cut hand, "It's not good".

"I am aware Harry; that's why you go to the vaults first, then as a last resort purchase a wand. Go see Ollivander if you can, I am sure you can convince him to sell or craft a wand without the Ministry knowing."

Harry's puzzled face spoke volumes. Ollivander was an odd wand crafter, but he wouldn't defy the Ministry like that, not while they had such an incestuous partnership. He had shown some interest in Harry and his holly wand years ago, but that wouldn't carry any impact now that Riddle was gone.

Hideki flashed a feral smile worthy of his son, "The Ollivander family has crafted wands since even before the Peverells. They also happened to be one of the Pure Houses of that same age." Hideki let the implications wash over the wizard. Harry's set jaw and clenched fists indicated his understanding. "I am sure you can think of a few ways to convince him of where his interests should lie."

Harry knew returning to Britain was risky even with his beloved cloak, but with the trace resolved, the concern was much less. In theory, he could have lived in Britain hidden away like a prisoner or Sirius now, but he had fought too hard in the last war to live his life as a marked man again. Harry even considered researching binding his ancestor's gift, but he knew that wouldn't stop the Purebloods from hunting him once they knew of his existence. He sighed heavily, even anonymously living in a foreign country wasn't a possibility as his vacation in America proved. He downed the four potions given to him by Hideki and immediately felt better.

"Gringotts it is then." Harry spoke to no one in particular. As he shifted into the goblin bank, he quickly walked into the associate director's office and doffed his cloak.

"Lord Potter" the elder goblin startled in surprise at the burned teen in front of him. He flinched at the raw magic radiating from him, but recovered quickly. "How may we assist you today?"

"I am going to my vault." Harry's brevity concerned the goblin. Perhaps he is unsatisfied with his purchases earlier?

"Indeed… I will send for Griphook." With such a high profile client, the goblin submerged his disgust at being so obsequious, hoping to make up for whatever slight Harry Potter felt. He was after all, quite an important client.

"No need" and with that dismissal, Harry shifted into his family vault. It required a lot of magic to bypass the substantial wards in the more secure vaults, but the exhaustion was comforting. It leeched a lot of Harry's anger at being given this task now, so that his healer and son could discuss Kenji's unbinding, if it even worked like Harry had hoped. I hate all of these secrets, all of these manipulations. Everything was so coincidental concerning the events that set the stage for Kenji's situation, but Harry had to give them the benefit of the doubt. They were the only people that had any clue what was happening to him and how to control it.

Gritting his teeth, Harry swore he would never be so unprepared and naïve again. He had lived too long under someone else's control. Even his healer, while meaning well, put him in great danger. He went to scouring his vaults, looking for whatever information that would give him some independence. Hours later, frustrated and defeated, Harry gathered a few of the darker spell tomes and one ancient book on wand crafting from the Black vaults and donned his invisibility cloak. He hoped that after the attack in the Alley that the wand maker would still be there. Ollivander had a lot to answer for.

Hideki was glad that his son survived the unbinding, but it was too early to tell whether or not he would ever be more than a partial wizard. While his son was in resting, Hideki was planning the Legion's next moves. Harry was very perceptive, and the sudden reversal of keeping him hidden and safe to then have him travelling to London, into the heart of enemy territory, was going to cause a major problem. They discovered the trace on him and disposed of it which was imperative, but Hideki put his son and Harry in a very exposed position. The gambit worked, Harry was now free to practice wand magic as he transitioned to gaining full control of the Fade and more importantly teach Kenji if it all worked as he hoped. They just needed to convince him that he should and that the manipulation was worth it. That we were still worth it.

As far as the businesses Harry purchased, some of them were a mystery to even Hideki, but based on the locations he knew some of his patient's end goals. He was playing a game of leverage and based on his actions, the Legion now rested squarely as a neutral, a group to be maneuvered like any other. Instead of allies, the healer and his patient were now only convenient associates and truthfully it bothered Hideki. They still needed Harry's help and he still cared deeply for the boy. He stared into his green tea and wondered if his dream for his son clouded his judgment; he knew his actions spent all of the trust he built with Harry.

All of this worrying wouldn't make any difference, so Hideki began to put his more desperate plan into motion, the one which sent Harry back into the dragon's lair again but he swore Harry would know exactly why it was necessary. Making out a list of the pros and cons, he knew it would be in his son and Harry's best interests. Convincing them was another matter entirely. He sighed heavily, his patient was going to be furious.

Garrick Ollivander had enough of Dark Wizards to last lifetimes. The substantial wards on his shop prevented much of the damage from the explosions, but this coupled with torture at the hands of Voldemort was too much. He would retire or leave his shop to his apprentice. He went back to packing his wands while providing statements to the DMLE. As the Auror contingent moved further up the Alley to take statements from patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, Garrick placed the last of his phoenix feather wands into storage. An uneasy feeling blanketed the old Ravenclaw and he surreptitiously palmed his wand in his cloak pocket.

He spun quickly, wand at the ready but saw nothing. Old nerves, I guess. Just in case, he weaved a few revealing spells. Nothing. He breathed heavily, after today one could never be too sure. He levitated the box of wands towards the back of the store, when he saw it. There was a faint shimmer of magic swiftly closing the distance between them and then a cold iron grip around his wrist pinning his wand to his side. Weathered and tanned fingers pulled back the hood and Garrick was shaken to see the malice reflecting off of Harry Potter's green eyes.

"Hello Garrick, you have something I need." Harry's voice was cold and dangerous.

"Harry … you are here, in Britain? What … what do you need from me?" His voice was cracking with concern, Garrick remembered those eyes; they were the same eyes as Lucius in the basement of Malfoy Manor.

"You said I was destined for great things, and I was. But now I need a new wand, it seems the last one wasn't enough." He held up his right hand and closed the distance between he and the wandmaker. "I need a new wand, one that the Ministry hasn't catalogued." Ollivander's eyes grew wide in fear. "Yes, Garrick, I know about your deal with the Ministry. I also know what your family did to mine".

Ollivander was confused at the venom in Harry's voice. He knew his family's recent history and the Potters were slight allies. His wonderings were cut short as Harry's anger overwhelmed him. "Think back further, Garrick. To an older time, an arcane time, the Peverells' time." Harry seethed at the older man.

Garrick blanched as his mind traveled back to those arcane times and horror seeped slowly into his face. Peverell. The Elder Wand. "You cannot mean that wand, I told you all I know of it, I cannot help any more than that."

"You can, and you will. I am from the Peverell line, the very last of that line. The same line your family helped extinguish along with the other Sacred Twenty-Eight." Harry knew that he couldn't hold Garrick totally responsible for the actions of his family over a millennia ago, but as a Pureblood Lord, it was within his right. Harry hoped his anger, real and imaginary, would frighten Garrick enough to help. "Don't forget I saved your life Ollivander. As for the Elder Wand, I destroyed it."

Garrick looked crestfallen as only a wand crafter could at the loss. His reverie was interrupted but Harry's ominous voice.

"You owe me a debt Garrick, and I intend to start collecting. I am leaving here with a new wand of my choosing and will return after you finished this tome." Harry placed the Black's tome of wandcrafting on the register counter. "Do not make me wait too long."

Garrick looked hesitantly at the tome and voiced his fears, "What is it, Lord Potter?"

"Research, Ollivander." He kept an eye on Garrick as he wandered over to the stacks of wands. Harry drew in a bit of the Fade and sifted through the boxes until he found a suitable replacement wand. He held up the wand for the wandmaker's inspection.

"Holly and phoenix feather. It seems you have an affinity for those elements."

"Only for now. Don't forget the book, Garrick. I may have this, but I will need a new wand, fit for an Arcane mage." Harry pocketed the similar wand and with a stern look reminded him, "The Ministry cannot know of any of this." He placed a small bag of two hundred Galleons on the countertop. As Harry left the shop, he answered the unasked question lingering in the air. Why?

"You are the proclaimed greatest wand maker, we will put that to the test."

Harry's relief in dealing with the wandmaker gave way to the need to see his friends, even if they were in the hospital. He hated hospitals, having found himself in one too often at Hogwarts, and not enough times when growing up with the Dursleys. In addition, Saint Mungo's would be crawling with Ministry employees and Aurors, any one of those could be tied to Matheson and his edict that he be captured or killed on sight.

He was a figurehead, a white knight that rallied people to his cause, the consummate war hero. He was also only a teenager, had a tenuous at best grasp of politics, and an unknown agenda. Men are flawed, but his legend was pristine, and that was what the Ministry and Matheson wanted. Harry had reservations of lumping Minister Shacklebolt in with them and was in no place now to demand those answers, but he would have them eventually.

Even with all the risks, he had to make sure everyone was alive, and had to make sure Hermione and Ginny knew he was alive. They shouldn't suffer his supposed death twice in only a few months. Shrouded under his cloak, he shifted into the hospital to the one area that knew was always available for apparition or travelling through the Void. He paid the specialists there considerably to secure it. He smiled as he got his bearings, there were his doctors, and they were literally speaking to their only patients.

An astonished smile split Harry's face wide open as he watched the doctors coaxing a small conversation out of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't matter. His heart swelled with pride, these doctors were incredibly expensive; over the long term it would be the most expensive gift given to his friends, but this, this miracle would have been worth all his Galleons. He withdrew his hood after a few privacy charms and offered a grateful smile and nod to the specialists as he turned to replace his hood, his heart froze.

"James, is that you?" Alice shuffled forward and peered deep into his eyes. She shook her head, muttering quietly about his eyes being the wrong color. For once in his life, he quietly supplied her the common refrain, "My eyes, they're like my mother's, like Lily's."

Her eyes brightened in acknowledgment as her trembling hand cupped his face. "Harry?" He could only nod numbly. He knew that filling in all of the holes would be overwhelming; she didn't know about his parents' deaths, his or her son's role in the war. He couldn't help the tears that fell from his face, he knew that he would have given everything to have his parents back. "I will return soon, Alice, Frank, and I will be sure to tell Neville to come see you."

It hurt deeply to see his fellow Gryffindor regain some of his parents, the jealousy was not spiteful but it was there. Not angry, just an open longing. He refused to brood like he always did. Especially over such a miraculous event and quickly a smile emerged on his face. It was a good omen.

There was redemption, the miraculous, magic made it all possible. Lost in his own musings, Harry arrived at the fourth floor where the victims of the Diagon Alley attack were being treated. Seeing the Aurors, reporters, Ministry officials, and victims, Harry knew that even with his cloak, there was no way to see his friends, or tell Neville to revel in his parents' lucidity. It galled him to see Rita Skeeter needling away at the Aurors, no doubt looking for a juicy angle about the attack. His anger was attracting unwanted attention due to the crackling waves rolling off of him, cloak or not. I'll be back later when things have calmed down. He knew he had one more promise to keep at this hospital, one that he swore to himself when in California.

He descended the empty stairwell to the main floor, and snuck quickly through the near vacant floor, stopping only once, at the door of the quarantine room. Knocking quietly as he opened the door, he peered in and saw the blond haired Gryffindor sitting petrified at the invisible intruder slipping into her room. The scarring on her neck and the gaunt look about her contrasted from her time at Hogwarts. Gone was her beauty and wonderful carefree smile, banished by the horrors of the last year and a half.

Harry drew the cloak off very slowly and looked deliberately into the sunken, haunted eyes of Lavender Brown. It was time to retrieve one of his Lions.