DISCLAIMER: That part of this world and those characters you've seen before belong to their Creator: JKR. The rest is mine - although I cannot quit my day job as I make no $$$ from this…
A/N: If any of you think I've forgotten about Luna's Mum or Neville's parents, guess again. But that is another chapter...
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: FOUNDATIONS
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 22nd, 1989 – THE ROOKERY, OTTERY ST. CATCHPOLE, DEVON, U.K.
Luna Lovegood was a girl of many talents. However, she was also not inclined to show off and reserved those talents to herself and those whom she considered close. In this regard, Sensei would agree that the Luna he had known in his timeline and the nine year old girl lying on her back with a palate in one and and paint brush in the other were very similar.
Sensei, however, had only truly discovered one of Luna's many talents; the only one she developed further after her mother died aside from magic that is. Sensei never learned just how good a writer that Luna could have been. True, that Luna had published major works on magical creatures all of which Sensei had read. But that Luna and this Luna at this age wrote stories as well. This Luna's writing teachers in Japan had commented favorably upon this talent and had encouraged her. Her friends had even read some of her stories and liked them, encouraging her even more.
Sensei had heard the other Luna humming on numerous occasions. But Sensei had never been shown the musician that was just beneath the surface. While Harry and Hermione – and Clarice for that matter – were very good musicians, Luna was a natural. She had an angelic singing voice and picked up instruments like Neville picked up interesting plants.
The one artistic talent Sensei had seen was the one she was working on now. She was also an exceptional painter for her age, and some would argue for any age. In Sensei's timeline, that Luna had painted the ceiling of her room on the top floor of the Rookery with portraits of herself and her five friends – a painting that was destroyed not long after Sensei had seen it. That Luna had been fifteen or sixteen when she adorned her ceiling.
This Luna was doing something very similar, yet it was also very different. She lay on her back adding the newest detail to a mural that covered the entire ceiling – one she had been working on for almost a year. Laying on her back was probably not an accurate description. There was no scaffold to hold her up, rather she was using magic to levitate herself.
At the center of the ceiling of her large bedroom were five "larger than life" figures. The truth was, Luna painted the five as life sized, or at least as they would be when they were a few years older. In the center of the ceiling was the first figure she had painted. It was of a young man just over six feet in height with short, jet black strait hair that seemed to defy both logic and combs, piercing green eyes and glasses. The young man was lean and confident yet with a warm smile. To his left he was holding hands with a young woman. She was at least three inches shorter than he was with long, chestnut brown curls that flowed past her shoulders, warm deep brown eyes and a smile that the subject of the portrait would not even believe. Next to her was the shortest person. She was a little less than two inches shorter than the other young woman with long, wavy blonde hair, large and pale blue eyes and an observant yet comfortable expression. To the young man's right was another young woman, the tallest of the three women. She was shorter than the young man by over an inch, but had the same eyes and same color hair. She was smiling, but clearly had the most serious expression of the five central figures. To her right was another young man, the tallest of the five. He a sandy blonde with brown eyes and was broader than the central figure looking better built for Rugby than Football and had an easy going manner on his face, yet an expression that exuded confidence.
All three of the young women were that – young women and not girls. Luna would admit she had taken more than a little artistic license as neither she nor they would know for certain how they would develop. None of them were girl like, yet none were over sized caricatures of the female anatomy either. This was how Luna saw herself and her four best friends in about ten years time, a time frame she picked because she believed they would be friends for a long, long time so why paint them as children?
She had finished these portraits around or just after Christmas and, as big as they were, there was still a lot of empty space in her "canvas." She then began painting a background to the left of the blonde. Although she did not know it at the time, an art critic might consider it impressionistic. It was also a montage of sorts featuring mostly London. There was the Rookery, which arguably was out of place, but there was also Potter House, Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, Tower Bridge and the Tower of London (complete with an overly large Beefeater given the scale), Nelson's Column, Harrods, Buckingham Palace (again, with an oversized palace guard in the red coat and bearskin hat) and the dome of St. Paul's in the background of the background. In the foreground of this background were three figures who seemed to be looking at the five. Upon closer inspection and if the viewer knew what they were looking at, they would see her parents and Neville's Gran.
She had two whole weeks after she returned from Japan to work on the other side of the picture. Here, the buildings were those she had seen in Kyoto, including the school as well as a pagoda, the ancient imperial palace and more than a few shrines. In the background was Mt. Fuji. She knew that it was nowhere near Kyoto, but it was part of her experience and that of her friends as well, so it was included even if out of place. There were five figures on the Japanese side, all of whom had been to Japan and four had lived there at the school with them: The Grangers, Minerva, Sirius Black and his fiancé Sophie.
She had other plans for the rest of the ceiling – one day. "Above" the main part would be clouds and blue sky and she planned to include subtle faces in those clouds. They would be of Harry and Clarice's birth parents, Hermione's birth parents and Clarice's adoptive parents for certain. Neville's parents were a maybe. Luna knew that Clarice and the others – but mainly Clarice as she was a Healer now – were going to try and cure them one day and until that day, room had been left on the Britain side for them.
Luna also wanted to include their common animagus forms and patronuses or patroni. She really could not remember which term was proper right now. She was going to start on that, but she had been inspired by her talk with Harry, Hermione and Clarice last night and was working on that inspiration. The rest could wait.
Luna and Neville were on a very short list of people who could see an old man who called himself Sensei. Luna knew who and what he was and knew he was a Harry Potter from a different timeline; different, but not yet totally foreign. It was like having a sort of seer who could tell one what might happen, although not necessarily what was certain to happen. Luna had hoped to include him on the ceiling, but how does one paint someone only a few could see or even knew existed.
Be that as it may, Luna paid attention to the old man when he chose to speak to her or around her or even about her. True, when he spoke about her, it was not really her but the Luna he had known in his timeline – a Luna who would not have these friends for several more years.
Harry and the others had spoken with her just after the rest of her guests left last night. They had told her what Sensei had told them. In a way, it was disturbing. If the timeline held to its former path, sometime between now and her tenth birthday, her Mum would be involved in a life threatening if not fatal accident while spell crafting. Sensei's Luna had watched her mother die, being too young to do anything. Sensei did not know how or when it happened or whether anything could be done to stop it. Luna's friends had told her what he had told them.
Luna thought about it for a long while after getting Hermione to tell her precisely what Sensei had said about the accident and reflecting on some of his anecdotes about the Luna he had known and especially that Luna's father.
"Thanks," Luna said finally.
"Thanks? That's it?" Harry asked.
"Aren't you worried?" Hermione added.
"Of course I'm a little worried," Luna said. "But knowing this I know a couple of more things."
"Such as?" Clarice asked.
"First off, if I am there and she can be saved, I know I can save her or at least get help fast. You guys promised to help and if you must know I was the best in my class with the Patronus Messenger. If she can't be saved, well it will be very different this time."
"Why?" Hermione asked.
"Because this time I will have friends. Sensei's Luna did not, not for another five or six years. You'll be there for me and will help me through it and that way I can help Daddy through it. Sensei's Luna could not and her Daddy went 'round the twist a bit. There are similarities between that Daddy and mine, but differences. Does my Daddy talk about made up conspiracies? Yes. Real and plausible ones? Yes. He knows the difference and makes some up because they make Mum laugh. Sensei's Luna's Daddy stopped seeing the difference. I can see that. My Daddy loves my Mum (and me for that matter) more than anything and losing either of us would be a blow.
"But this time, I will both be prepared and should the worst happen, I will have friends to help me so I can help Daddy."
"Are you going to tell your Mum?" Harry asked.
"Probably not," Luna replied. "It won't stop her from spell crafting. She loves it too much and since we don't know what she was working on – or will be working on – we can't give her a good warning. Most likely, if she knew she wouldn't want me around when she works, which defeats the purpose of telling me, don't you think?"
The others nodded in agreement.
"Thanks in advance," Luna said with a smile, "regardless of how it turns out."
Her brush strokes were adding a thin and delicate gold chain to her portraits. It was to surround them in a circle, neither binding them nor allowing the five friends to separate. It was comprised of two words in flowing script repeated over and over again: "Friends Forever."
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 25th, 1989 – POTTER HOUSE, LONDON, U.K.
It was now one month to the day since they had set out on their "First Mission." Hermione was seated on a stone bench in the now dying garden behind Potter House, the place that had been her home for over a year, a home she shared with her parents, her two best friends as well as Remus Lupin and Sirius Black and very soon Sirius's bride. The weather had turned chilly as it did this time of year and rain threatened but was not yet falling. Hermione was out here for some quiet reflection over what had been both the worst two weeks of her life.
It had begun with that Mission. They had destroyed a horcrux and eliminated the means by which Voldemort had returned in Sensei's timeline. Yet despite the success of the mission, she had returned both hurt and furious. Harry had refused to listen to her. He seemed to have this spur of the moment idea to rob graves and burn down an admittedly abandoned house and refused to see reason, refused to see it was wrong and refused to listen.
She had been so angry with him. But she also tried to hide that fact from him and everyone. A part of her did not want to get into a row with her first and best friend, but she could not get past the feeling that he did not respect her or her feelings. During the week following their return, she did speak to Harry, but she never talked to him. She thought she was doing a good job of hiding her anger from everyone until the day before Luna's birthday. Still, while she thought everyone was none the wiser, she was in pain. She did not know why. She missed Harry, even though she saw him every day, she missed him terribly. But she could not bring herself to talk to him and work it out. Stubbornly, she felt he should apologize to her.
After the talk with Minerva, Sirius and her father, she was no longer angry with Harry. She was now ashamed of herself and now really could not bring herself to talk to Harry. The pain she felt before was nothing compared to what she now felt. She had let him down in a way and that was the worst and loneliest she had ever felt in her life. The best day in her life was when Harry asked to be her friend the day after he first woke up in hospital. She had treasured that day and every day since and she was now losing all of that and did not know how to fix it.
For the next week or so, at least when they were not working with the Weekend Warriors or planning for the expansion of that club that was to occur beginning the first weekend in October, she spent hours on this bench away from everyone crying. Her stubborn sense of morals had cost her. Her naiveté had cost her. Her stubborn nature had cost her. All she was had cost her all she cared about. How could she fix it? How could she make it better? She was not sure it could be fixed or ever be the way it was. In a way, she was right.
"Hermione?" she heard Harry's voice call softly. He was probably standing next to her or near her, but she refused to look up. Her eyes were red from tears and she really didn't want him to see her crying.
It took Harry some time, but as he was not about to let Hermione go on the way she had been, he eventually got her talking. She told him about how she had felt and about the Talk she had with the others and how she now felt. She told him she had ruined everything she had ever had and ever wanted and had no idea how to make it right.
"Ruined?" Harry asked. "I'm here, aren't I? I still want to be your best friend, Hermione. I still need you to be mine."
"How can I be? I … you … trust … Why didn't you? Why didn't you?"
"What? Tell you what I was thinking of doing?"
Hermione nodded.
"I wanted to. I need you that way. You see things I miss and … well, you've had a far better moral upbringing than me."
"H-how can you say that?"
"Cause it's true in a way. Before you and your parents, I lived with my Aunt and Uncle. Not models of appropriate behavior or interpersonal relations…"
Hermione actually laughed a little.
"When Sensei told us of that Resurrection Ritual, I knew I wanted to stop that from happening. I did not know the bones were there until that day, but I wanted to be ready if they were. I also wanted someone to either come up with a better plan for achieving the same end or talk me out of it. I knew, Hermione, I knew if I spoke with you, you would have talked me out of it on the moral grounds. I needed more! I needed someone to tell me it would not work regardless or something. I knew if you said don't do it I would not have. But what if it was the only way?
"I mentioned it to Sirius and Clarice, not you. I am sorry, but…
"Sirius was for it from the start. Not much advice there except how to get at the bones. Clarice was not against it, unless it was futile. She set to researching the ways Voldemort could come back and better the curse we know than one we don't, right? My goal was to deny him an excuse to come after me as a part of his plan to come back – to deny him the protections of my blood and my mother's sacrifice. But what if that ritual was not the only way for him to achieve that end? Then it would not be worth it.
"Clarice found out there were seven ways for him to come back. One was for one of his horcruxes to steal the life force from another witch or wizard…"
"As happened to Ginny in Sensei's timeline?"
Harry nodded. "One was through the use of the Elixir of Life as a catalyst in a complex potion…"
"Again, a plot in Sensei's timeline."
"One was the Resurrection Ritual that required his 'father's' bones, flesh of a servant and blood of an enemy – me."
"And the others?"
"One is a ritual that requires a recent corpse and reanimates the corpse as a host for his disembodied soul."
"That could mean you, couldn't it?"
Harry shook his head. "Not really. The corpse must have died of natural causes. A murdered corpse will not work as it is magically unclean. Thus in most cases, it is an elderly person and I doubt Voldemort would want to come back as a frail, old man even if he was just as powerful magically. Kind of hard to be the terrifying Dark Lord if you need a walker…"
Hermione laughed a little at the image.
"Another, and the only one that will bring him all the way back to his old self requires a ritual that reintegrates his entire soul. This has a drawback. If any soul fragment is lost, it cannot work. There is also a reason why Voldemort would never try this…"
"And that it?"
"First of all, with his soul again intact, he is quite mortal. All his horcruxes would have to be reintegrated. But most important, he could never make another horcrux again, thus he remains mortal."
"But if he had the Elixir of Life?"
"It does not grant true immortality," Harry said. "I don't think anything does…"
"But…?"
"With the Elixir, you never age and can never die from age, illness or even starvation, thirst, cold, drowning and such. But your body is not indestructible. Destroy the body and you die. Cut off the head, burn it, gut it, blow out the brains or heart, and it dies just as any other. I'm forced to assume he knows that and would rule it out."
Hermione nodded. What they knew about him would rule that out. "That's five."
"There is a ritual that allows the soul to take over another person – to possess him permanently…"
"Didn't that happen in Sensei's time?"
"No,' Harry said. "Voldemort possessed a professor, but it was not the same for the professor remained. The ritual cannot work on a magical person. It must be a Muggle or Squib as they lack the magic to resist. Or, to be more accurate, they have no magic that will prevent the transference. That professor may have wanted to be Voldemort for all we know, but the magic would have prevented it otherwise why was Voldemort after the Stone?"
"Makes sense," Hermione said. "Sounds like an easy one, if you ask me."
"Probably the easiest," Harry nodded. "But we can probably rule it out too."
"Why?"
"Since the body he would inhabit is not magical at all, to make it work he must give up half of his magic. He basically must dilute his magic with fifty percent Muggle. It would render him an average wizard in terms of power and somehow I don't see him as accepting average."
"Me neither. And the last one?"
"Requires a magical person and is similar in concept except he would retain all of his magic and gain a boost from the departed magical person's magic. He replaces that person's soul with his own…"
"But how is that not like possessing the professor? Couldn't he use you for that?"
"No," Harry replied. "I am way too old."
"But you're nine! Or seventeen or whatever."
"Way too old. Must be a newborn. No more than a couple of weeks old at most."
"Where would he get that?" Hermione wondered mainly to herself.
"I'm sure he might be able to find a Death Eater who would be willing sire the bastard," Harry said.
Hermione nodded. "And he would be years away from returning, right?"
"Actually, according to Clarice, the infant would grow physically and magically at a grossly accelerated rate. A couple of years, three at the most, and he would be at full maturity both ways and then age at a normal rate.
"Provided he does not get his grubby paws on the Stone and we destroy that Diary, by destroying the bones, he only has the last option as his realistic one. The reason I left the graves open (and by the way, they are charmed so that they reopen if anyone tries to fill them in) is so that he knows the Resurrection Ritual is not an option. He will be forced to go for the final one – one that does not involve me at all."
"But a baby?"
"Most all of these rituals require at least a blood sacrifice if not a death, Hermione. The Elixir potion requires the fresh blood of one whole human. The Resurrection Ritual was botched in Sensei's timeline. The blood of the enemy was all the blood, not a few drops. Basically, there is no way for him to come back without someone dying at least in spirit. And he must come back to be destroyed forever."
"I don't like it, but …" Hermione began. "There really is no other way?"
"Not that we've been able to find," Harry said. "I was not going to let that opportunity with the bones get away. But if you can find one that renders the others moot before someone is actually at risk…"
"Better the bones than a human life," Hermione said.
Harry nodded in agreement. "And if you cannot find an alternative?"
"Voldemort must be destroyed," Hermione said. "That point was driven home. Daddy said that in war there will always be some collateral damage. The just warrior can only minimize it. If we can…"
"We should," Harry finished for her earning his first hug and kiss on the cheek in a fortnight or more.
"Still, a child? Moral issues aside, how do we know, how will we know? How will he get such a child? In addition to murder, there is kidnapping and the pain to the child's family and…"
"Actually, that won't happen, Hermione. Not really. As I said, each ritual requires a sacrifice. Most, including this one require two. He cannot just kidnap any magical baby. The baby must be offered to him to be his vessel willingly by a natural parent and before the child is born. This means innocent families and the orphanage are not at risk."
"That's sick! Offer your own child?"
"According to Sirius, many did during the War, although not for that. Sirius's parents first offered him to the Death Eaters as a future recruit. When he went Light on them, they offered Regulus in his stead. This is but an extension of that vile practice; a practice many Dark families did last time without batting an eyelash."
"So what is the probability Voldemort can find a willing parent?" Hermione asked. "All his Death Eaters have been dealt with, right?"
"All the known ones," Harry said. "All the active ones from the last War are either dead or in prison. Remus says that Office W believes they represented maybe half of the total. During the War, whenever a Death Eater was killed or captured, another trained one came seemingly from nowhere to keep the ranks filled. It frustrated the hell out of anyone trying to take that group down.
"Office W knows that there were never more than 182 active Death Eaters at any one time. Thirteen were 'Inner Circle,' the team Captains and such. 169 were rank and file killers. Anytime Death Eater was killed or captured, another person suddenly appeared and took their place. His organization was like the Hydra – a mutli-headed vicious beast that should some hero hack off a head, two grew in its place. Moreover, there were many Death Eater moles who either were or still are within the Ministry or Wizengamot who were never active once they took the Mark. Whenever a Sleeper Death Eater (that's what Office W called the Death Eaters who were not actively engaged in terrorist acts) whenever one was activated, another Sleeper was initiated. There seemed to be a queue waiting to join up. Few if any of the Sleepers were ever caught or even identified, so there are a fair few still roaming free and who could be rallied to or used by Voldemort upon his attempted return.
"Even if they never were active, they are all vile. Despite what many active Death Eaters led people to believe, you cannot become one by force. No form of compulsion magic will work. The magic that marks a Death Eater and binds them to Voldemort is both Dark and requires a voluntary act of free will."
"What kind of act?" Hermione asked.
"Murder. Muggle or Magical, it doesn't matter, but the initiate must kill whomever they are told without hesitation and as their own free and voluntary Act. A fair few of those who were said to have murdered their wives and children while under the Imperious Curse may well have been undergoing Death Eater initiation rites."
"But they were under such curses," Hermione said.
"When they were caught," Harry nodded.
"Oh!"
"I learned a lot in the last month or so, Hermione. I learned about the rituals in the couple of weeks leading to our Mission when I was afraid you'd easily talk me out of something that deep in my gut I knew was unpleasant but necessary. The last two weeks when you were avoiding me, I learned even more from Remus and Sirius about the last War and the Death Eaters and am convinced our little bone burning was not only necessary but benign as compared to what we may have to do in the future.
"Whether we like it or not, whether you believe that prophecy or not, I am and will be Voldemort's primary target. I can't change that so long as he exists. In some ways this gives me an advantage as I know he's coming and have time to prepare. It also means I will be in the best position to kill the bastard even if I do nothing. But you know the problem of doing it too soon."
"Horcruxes," Hermione said.
"Exactly. Until they are all gone, I can't risk that encounter. The wards on this house and the probable ones you, Luna and I can raise at Hogwarts one day can protect us from an attack – probably indefinitely. But hiding can't stop him from returning or his minions from reforming and plunging this country back into civil war. Moreover, even after the last of his horcruxes is gone, his mortal self remains sufficiently protected that to seek him out or allow him to seek me out would be suicide. Until all his protections are destroyed, I and we can't win."
"All of his protections? What other protections could he have?"
"His Death Eaters," Harry replied. "Between Office W, the Ministry and others, some 452 Death Eaters are either dead or in prison. But remember, for every active Death Eater lost, there was a spare Sleeper activated and a new one marked. In the active force, there were thirteen leaders and for each of them thirteen followers hence the 182 total. Voldemort was into numerology. Office W suspects that for each of the 182, there were seven or thirteen spares. Given the magical population of Britain at that time, it was most likely seven. That's 1204 marked Death Eaters at the time the war ended. That means we cannot account for 752 of the bastards. Some were probably foreigners. Others may have died by now from other causes. Still, that leaves Voldemort with a large force from which he can reconstitute quickly once he returns. He can't be defeated without wiping them out."
"What are you suggesting Harry?"
"To defeat Voldemort once and for all, most of his minions must be dealt with."
"As in killed?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded.
"When?"
"Not any time soon," Harry replied. "We're nowhere near ready at all."
"Ready?"
"First off, only you and I are combat Defense Masters. Only ones in Britain I've been told. We are capable of killing with and without magic…"
"In theory."
"True. But even if it were in fact, we can't do it alone. Good way to end up dead if you ask me. We need loads more."
"There may be one day."
Harry nodded. "But not for a while. Next year there will be eleven more when Clarice and Group '89 get their Defense Masteries…"
"Group '89?"
"Those who started Watanabe this past summer. You, Clarice and I are Group '88. See?"
"There a reason for this Group thing?"
"I'll get to it," Harry said. "I came out here for two reasons really. One was 'cause I want my best friend back. I miss you."
"I missed you too, Harry."
"The other – assuming I have my best friend back…"
"A safe assumption," Hermione chided. "For now."
"We got the lists from the other schools."
"We did?"
Harry nodded. "They'll send their groups first weekend in October. Anyway, the other schools aside, Group '90 has thirty right now and '91 thirty two. As you know, Group '90 has kids who are in their first through fourth years at either Hogwarts or St. George's. '91 are between the ages of seven and ten right now. Well, we got fifteen each from the other four schools who are first through fourth years and another fifteen each – younger brothers and sisters mostly – between seven and ten and three each aged six, Group '92 for now."
"We should probably let some six year olds from our Hogwarts and St. George's communities join up," Hermione said.
Harry nodded in agreement. "Anyway, right now our Muggle Borns either were in school last year or have older brothers and sisters who were in school last year. Both Minerva and Professor Fleming from St. George's school want to add about six more First Years each – all new Muggle Borns – twelve total to Group '90. Many have younger siblings – 19 more to group '91. That's 42 in Group '90 and 51 in Group '91 without adding in the other schools.
"Throw in the other schools and Group '90 will send 102 students to Japan starting next year. That's 102 additional Defense Masters by August 1991 or 115 total. Group '91 currently has 111 total, but that number will increase by next fall as next year's new Muggle Born families are identified. Figure around 150 for planning purposes. '92 will be less as we'll only be getting the First year's who are the oldest in their families and their younger siblings. Still, it could go as high as 90 by the time they start. So, by August 1993 we could have as many as 250 or more Defense Masters."
"You're not suggesting a bunch of kids fight this next War," Hermione said in some shock.
"Physically," Harry nodded. "But all of us will be adults by then."
"Time Compression?" Hermione asked.
Harry nodded. "In Sensei's timeline, Voldemort became physical again in June of 1995. I've actually calculated our assimilated ages as of September 1st 1994, well before that time. Assuming we do not attend Watanabe after the summer after next, you will be thirty-one on that date, I'll be thirty and Clarice will be twenty-nine. Even if they only do two summers, everyone in Group '91 will be at least eighteen by then. Anyone in Group '92 who did all three summers will be in their twenties. Group '93 will all be at least sixteen by then in assimilated years, most at least seventeen. That's at least three hundred or more Defense Masters who are legally adults under our law."
"And your assumptions?" Hermione asked.
"The youngest in any Group is seven when they start Watanabe."
"In other words older than Clarice?"
"By a few days, yes."
"So we're building an army?"
"I assumed you knew that was a possibility."
"I did. Just not so soon."
"1994 is a ways off, Hermione. Nothing soon about it. But that's the earliest I think we might actually have to do something other than stop Voldemort's first two attempts or destroy Horcruxes. It will probably be later, maybe even after Groups '94 and '95 have started. Regardless, having a trained force is not enough, unless all we want it to wait for the enemy to come to us."
"What do you mean?"
"While we will be safe in enclaves such as here, to defeat the enemy and minimize his ability to achieve his ends, we will have to seek engagements. I can't say how just now and might not be able to for some time. We lack any intelligence that can readily identify targets other than the one we destroyed last week. At some point, we will need to begin gathering intelligence and compiling target lists so when the time is right, we can have the maximum effect."
"What sort of targets?"
"Death Eaters," Harry said.
"Fight them?"
"I'd rather shoot them in the back, to be honest."
Hermione nodded. "Underhanded, but safer for the shooter. Probably won't be able to do that in all cases…" she then laughed.
"What?"
"Two weeks ago I would be livid at the suggestion. Here I am now advocating assassinations for lack of a better word. Then again, given how one gets the Mark…"
Harry nodded.
"One question," Hermione began, "why you? Why us? Why not leave this to the adults who are supposed to do this stuff?"
"That's more than one question," Harry teased.
Hermione shrugged. "So sue me."
"I don't know about you, Hermione, but I have little faith in the adult wizards and witches to do what is right by all of us. They did such a brilliant job last time. I've heard nothing to tell me that all but a miniscule fraction of them will do any better than last time."
"Still…"
"Who does that leave? It's left to us, to our generation, to those who have hope for the future and still believe anything is possible. In the past it was an old man's war and a young man's fight. Not this time. This is our war, our fight, for it's our future that will be determined. If not us, then who? If not now, then when? I read that somewhere once."
"And after?" Hermione asked.
"After what?"
"After the War is over, after Voldemort is dead and his Death Eaters dead or defeated, what then?"
"I don't honestly know, Hermione. Haven't thought that far ahead in any detail."
"But?"
Harry sighed. "Okay, maybe I have a bit. Assuming we win, do we really want to leave the world the way we found it? Even with them gone, the conditions would remain that would one day mean our children or grandchildren would have to go through it all again. I don't truly know what to do to fix it yet. Even if I did, it's not my place to fix it but all of ours, don't you think?"
"So, first Voldemort then a revolution?"
"Someone once said a revolution every now and then can be a good thing," Harry replied with a smirk.
"Sensei did say he wanted us to study British Magical History and Government between now and Hogwarts, provided we could find accurate and competent sources," Hermione nodded.
"And Sirius found us one," Harry said with a smirk.
"Really? When? Why didn't you tell me?"
"He told me not long before I came out here so I am telling you."
"Who?"
"Well, in addition to the Potter Journals…"
"And the ones Aunt Minnie has," Hermione added.
"…it looks like you, Clarice and maybe Neville, Luna and I will be spending a lot of time with Lord Black. Seems he's quite the critic of the official histories and government."
The conversation continued for a few more hours until the two were called in for dinner. Hermione would one day look back upon her talk with Harry as the day their relationship was both restored and strengthened far beyond what it had been before. They were now far more than best friends in some ways and while neither Harry nor Hermione noticed it at the time, the others who lived in Potter House smiled as the two walked into the Dining Room hand in hand once more.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1st, 1989 – CAMP W WEST OF WINDSOR, U.K.
The previous week, some sixty-two children had showed up at Potter House to learn magic from the thirteen British Watanabe students. Those sixty-two had learned the Club was changing location to a new place called Camp W. They all arrived by floo just as they had the week before and found themselves in what looked like a large gymnasium. They also found that they were not the only children present. All told, some 253 children ranging in age from six to fifteen were now milling about all just as confused in many ways as the others.
There was a raised platform at one end of the gym in front of which were six desks. As the children wondered what was going on they saw a tall, blonde haired young man walk onto the raised platform. He was wearing what looked like trainers and khaki trousers and a thick, blue jumper unlike any many had ever seen before because there were things on his shoulders. The ones closer could see a strip of red cloth on each shoulder with two white or silver stripes, one at the shoulder and one just next to it running from the front to the back. Above the two stripes was a silver crown, but no one could see it from the floor. Beneath his jumper was a collared khaki shirt with the collar points outside the collar of the jumper. Only a few could see the number '89 on the right collar point. On his left arm below the shoulder was a white rectangle bisected both horizontally and vertically by a red stripe forming a cross.
"Right you lot," the young man said in what must have been a magically amplified voice, "for those of you who have been with us before, welcome to the new home of the Weekend Warriors. We will still get into London from time to time and still use Potter House, but most of the time we'll be here. For the rest of you, welcome to Camp W, the new home of the Weekend Warriors.
"I am Jason Evans and I will be one of your instructors here. I was born seventeen years ago and am twenty-one and change years old. If you can see the stripes on my shoulders, this means I have taken and passed the International Standard O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Three of your instructors are one stripers, having passed their International Standard O.W.L.s. The oldest of those three was born nine years ago and is thirteen years old. Three of your instructors are three stripers, having passed their International Standard O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s and attained a Masters Certification. The youngest of those was born eight years ago and is sixteen years old. First lesson here: don't let anyone's apparent age or size fool you!
"Right then, let's queue up! Hogwarts in front of Table 1, Perkins Academy Table 2, St. Albans Table 3, St. Andrews Table 4, St. George's Table 5 and St. Patrick's Table 6! This is the last time your school matters here and the order is purely alphabetical. Once you're checked in, you'll be given a room assignment in the dorms through that door," Jason pointed, "boys dorms up the stairs to the left, girls to the right. You'll find your wardrobes are already assigned and your kit waiting. Change into what I am wearing then proceed to the ground floor for further orientation." Right then, queue up!"
"What about us?" a girl asked. Jason immediately recognized one of the Patil twins. "We don't have a school!"
"Patils and Changs Table 1," Jason said.
"But that's Hogwarts!"
"And apparently, that's where you'll be assigned when you turn eleven."
"How did you know that?"
Jason smiled. "We have our ways."
About two hours later, over 250 young people dressed almost exactly alike were eating in a large cafeteria on the ground floor of the dormitory. They learned that there were only minor differences in their clothes.
The patches on their arms were flags. The one like Jason's was the flag of England. There was a light blue one divided by a white "X" which was the Scottish flag. Another was similar. It was mostly white with a red "X" and had been the Irish flag over two hundred years ago and was worn by those few from Northern Ireland. There was the green, white and orange tri-color of the Republic of Ireland. Finally, there was the white over green flag with a red dragon – the Welsh flag which everyone thought was the coolest of the lot.
Their collar insignia stood for the year they were slated to start school in Japan. Those years ran from '88 to '92.
The shoulder straps also had meaning. Closest to the collar was an insignia that stood for their schools: a silver "H" for Hogwarts, a silver shamrock for St. Patrick's of Ireland, crossed silver swords for St. Andrew's of Scotland, a silver castle for St. Albans of Wales, a silver crown for St. George's in London and finally a silver anchor for Perkins Academy, said to symbolize the island and seafaring peoples of England. Aside from the Watanabe students, all then had either a thin silver or black stripe just below the school symbol. Black was for those in their first year as Weekend Warriors, Silver for those in their second. Obviously, most were black stripes. Many had chevrons below their stripe. These were the children already in school. The First Years all had a single black chevron with its point pointing away from their collars. Second Years had a single silver chevron. Third Years had a black chevron over a silver chevron. There were a few Fourth Years with two silver Chevrons. They were told as they ate this was just to let people know where they were in their education. Once they went to Japan and finished a summer, they'd wear the boards like the instructors with stripes for O.W.L., N.E.W.T. and Masters.
When most had finished eating, three young people, each with three stripes on their shoulders stepped onto a raised platform.
"Welcome," a dark haired boy with glasses said. "My name is Harry Potter. I hold a Masters in Combat Defense Magic and will be one of your Senior Instructors. With me are this year's other Senior Instructors: Hermione Granger who also holds a Masters in Combat Defense and Clarice Jameson who is a certified Healer. As Instructor Jason Evans told you earlier, your age and school do not matter here. The only thing that does is what you know and don't know. We are here to increase what you know and can do and decrease what you don't know and can't do.
"All of you will be learning magics here that are either not taught in Britain or are poorly taught. This will include wandless magics, nonverbal spell casting and the mind magics, among other things. You will also be taught non-magical martial arts and other things all to ensure that you can do well in Japan. I can assure you, this is perfectly legal – right now.
"However, especially for those of you in school, we don't want word of this group spreading around. There are many in this country and in the Ministry who would have a fit if they knew you were learning stuff that they cannot do. It is important they don't learn of us until it's too late for them to do anything. Otherwise, we will be just as uneducated as they are and as they want all their children to be.
"Moreover, the only rule that will get you kicked out of here and deported from Japan without exception is this: bigots are not tolerated. You'll find no Death Eater fans here! Any of you think you are better than anyone else because of your 'blood status,' think again! That is your ticket to leave – after being obliviated of course! You will note there is nothing on your jumpers that advertises blood status. The only status that matters here is witch or wizard, not how many of your ancestors were.
"Right then, when your name is called, form up with the person calling out and we'll continue the orientation…"
The Blacks