Seven Deadly Drabbles

by kmfrank

A collection of half-started ideas, some of which could have been developed into stories but never were; some of which were just intended to be short romps in Potterland. I decided to post them to give you a glimpse of what gets the axe on the chopping block. Or maybe to see why it takes so long to update the other stories...

2. The Order of Extraordinary Gentlemen

A/N: In a world that has known peace since Grindelwald, a reborn Voldemort comes through the Veil and finds a virgin realm, ripe for the conquering. Who in this unknown world would dare to stand against him? Familiar faces and old enemies await, in a world unprepared for the Dark Lord.

The Seven Deadly Drabbles

The Order of Extraordinary Gentlemen

"Crouch, this storm's been building all over London since she activated the portal, and I'm not willing to bet the two are unrelated. Now we've got storms inside every level of the Ministry that Maintenance can't clean up, and a dozen wizards and witches have been sent to St. Mungo's from lightning strikes? No, send everyone home. Evacuate the whole bloody place - we've no idea what we're dealing with here."

"Of course Minister." Senior Undersecretary Crouch replied smartly, a quill taking notes as he walked and a dozen paper aeroplanes taking off almost immediately, sending notifications off.

"Alastor!" The Minister called out warmly as they emerged into the largest room of the Department of Mysteries.

Alastor Moody was a roughly scarred wizard with a particularly cruel, jagged line running across his face, cutting across where his left eye used to be - it was replaced with an artificial glass eye that was clearly magical, spinning freely in it's socket.

"Aye, Minister. Things look to be coming to a head, here." Moody replied gruffly, in his typical no-nonsense fashion.

"Lightning strikes coming faster and faster - less than thirty seconds between them, now - and the bloody wind is so loud we're having to yell to each other, as you can see. Near as we can tell, with each lightning strike, the runes on the Veil are glowing brighter. It's building to something. I've got at least ten men here at all times, we're rotating Aurors, Unspeakables, and Hit-Wizards. I'd rather it was all Aurors, of course, but we don't have enough of 'em. Plus Croaker wants Unspeakables around to study the blasted thing. Bloody Granger's hardly left since she set the damn thing off." Moody finished.

Minister Riddle looked around at the four Unspeakables in the room waving their wands at spherical sensors of some kind he was unfamiliar with - they were filled with swirling light yellow gas.

"Yes, I understand that according to Unspeakable Granger, she did little more than finish translating the runes from ancient Sumerian when all this began occurring." Riddle yelled over the wind.

"That's correct, Minister!" One of the grey-cloaked Unspeakables said to him excitedly. "I'm Unspeakable Granger, sir - sorry about all of this. As I put in my first report -"

"Which I believe was around 10 feet of parchment." Riddle interjected sarcastically.

"That's correct, sir! After I finished translating and read the translation, the runes on the Veil lit up, the winds picked up as loud as they are now, and there was a lightning strike that seemed like it was right on the center of the Veil. Luckily I had raised a Shield Charm per standard protocol. The runes were glowing red, the wind had died down, but the weather outside London had turned to - well, you remember. And then it escalated to what it is now." Hermione said, her face hidden and shadowed behind the Unspeakable's cloak.

"Well I'm glad to have your expertise here now -" Riddle began, before cutting himself off suddenly when all of the yellow gaseous orbs floating around the room turned bright orange. Hermione noticed it too, then looked around the room at all of the other orbs, noticing that they all turned. Hermione drew her wand, pointing it at the Veil and began casting every protective enchantment she knew.

"Is there a problem, Unspeakable? What does the orange smoke mean?" Minister Riddle asked calmly. Moody did not keep calm, seeing what Hermione was doing and casting more protective enchantments around himself and the Minister rather more quickly than the Unspeakable.

"Orange means an unknown imminent threat is coming." Hermione said distractedly; Moody cursed loudly.

"Croaker! What is the hell does that mean, an unknown imminent threat?!" He questioned loudly over the even louder wind.

Riddle, not wasting time, transfigured the marble wall into a solid bunker of steel completely enveloping himself and several others around him, including Granger and Moody, with a convenient eye-slit to look at the Veil. Most of the others in the room, not nearly so talented, raised up smaller walls to crouch behind. Croaker created a bunker similar to Riddle's, but made out of the same material as the wall.

The lightning had picked up pace, and was striking every few seconds now. The wind was screaming like a hurricane - Moody had tried screaming something at Riddle, but it was no avail. Riddle was the only one who could communicate with everyone, with some spell that was like his voice whispering in everyone's ear, that for some reason they could hear despite the gale force winds.

There wasn't much he could say, except to keep calm, and that they were all in this together.

A final, blinding, absurdly loud CRACK of lightning that seemed to split the room in two, it was so powerful and nearby, and it was over. The wind was gone, the lightning strikes were over.

Tom Riddle held his breath for a tense moment before peeking out from behind his bunker.

A blue fire had swept through the room - it burned in such an unnatural way that some of the marble was still on fire; Tom wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he knew of several things that could similarly burn anything. He noted that those in the room who had huddled behind smaller barriers were thrown bodily and now unconscious. That left only a handful of the more than a dozen wizards and witches.

And, huddled in the fetal position in front of the charred rubble that was was all that remained of the Veil, he saw the creature. It was sickly pale and thin, and the blue fire around the room made its skin glow. The ridges of its back where a normal person would have vertebrae were too sharp; its head was too bulbous, and it had no hair.

It raised its head, then, and in the instant Tom met its red eyes, burning pools of opalescent hatred, set in a familiar but horribly corrupted face, he knew.

He knew exactly what this creature was.

The stunning realization that the creature was him was almost too much to bear, he gagged and it was all he could do not to vomit. A cruel smirk emerged on what passed for a face on the creature.

Hello brother, the thing seemed to think at him with his mocking smirk. Voldemort - Tom knew him as intimately as he knew himself, now - raised a sickly pale arm with a familiar wand in hand and whipped around, conjuring a smoky set of black robes.

Tom burst out of his bunker with his wand drawn, bending the front of the barrier upwards with a thought.

"I'm Tom Riddle, the Minister for Magic," he declared, mostly for show for the rest of the wizards present - Tom believed Voldemort knew very well who he was.

"Go back through the Veil, and we won't be forced to end this unpleasantly." Tom's steely blue eyes met Voldemort's fiery red, and for several moments, neither moved. It was long enough for Alastor Moody and Hermione Granger to emerge from Tom's shelter, and for two Unspeakables and an Auror to emerge from Croaker's.

Tom regretted that.

"Imperio." Voldemort's voice was a raspy whisper, high and cruel and inhuman.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Stupefy!"

Hermione's voice and Alastor Moody's rang out at the same time, and their spells impacted each other. They both dropped. The only sound afterward was Voldemort's raspy cackle.

"Mad-Eye Moody, using Stunning Spells! Oh, but this is a fun place!" Tom let loose a flurry of spells, but Voldemort merely batted them away lazily with his wand. Then he woke up his first Imperiused servant, who began harassing the others.

"I don't typically allow observers! Is that you, Rookwood, old friend?! Imperio!" Voldemort shouted with some glee in his voice.

"Black," Croaker called to the Auror who'd taken shelter under his bunker and was now easily fighting off two Imperiused Unspeakables while Croaker slung spells at Voldemort with Riddle, "I really hope you can fight off the Imperius Curse." Croaker fell to a flash of light from Voldemort's wand but a moment later, leaving Tom alone to be harried by Voldemort's wand.

"Are you kidding? I'd never have gotten out from under dear old mum's thumb if I couldn't. Crazy bint used to curse me every morning - said it built character. She also married a cousin, so it just shows." Sirius said with a roguish smile on his face. With a flourish, he batted the second Unspeakable - he didn't know which one, it was impossible to keep those blighters apart - against the wall, and they crumpled; the other lie in a heap on the ground, having succumbed to a series of immobilizing and stunning spells.

Tom only barely managed to spare a glance to the Auror before neatly turning sideways out of the way of the Killing Curse, quickly conjuring up a tree branch behind him that burst into harsh green flames - harmlessly absorbing the flames, preventing Black from death. Tom batted away another curse from Voldemort and countered with two more spells of his own.

Voldemort almost contemptuously countered Tom's spells, and with hardly a thought, Black was writhing on the ground under the Cruciatus Curse, a cruel glint in the eye of Voldemort.

Silently, Tom finally landed a curse on Voldemort as he concentrated just a bit too hard on cursing Black with the Cruciatus, and bodily flung him across the room into the wall. Another spell bashed him into the wall, and a Blasting Curse detonated like a bomb, blowing a hole clear into another room of the Department of Mysteries. The powdery haze of smoke from the destroyed wall seemed to swirl sinisterly.

Tom breathed heavily and tugged on his robe smugly when - from behind him, of all places, he saw an ugly, twisting purple curse. He saw just enough of it to know that it would hit him right in the back, and a second one would hit Black.

"Excuse me, sir, but the Ministry of Magic is restricted to employees and authorized visitors. Please show me your badge," a nervous night-guard said bravely when he saw Voldemort boldly approach the Ministry Atrium, flanked by Hit-Wizards and Unspeakables.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort replied lazily. "Ah, the Atrium." Voldemort reminisced. He viewed the hundreds of offices that had windows that overlooked the fountain of magical brethren, then, speaking to ensure a curse powerful enough, shattered each and every one.

"Reducto." His wand was a caress as he spun around the room - windows exploded and shards of glass rained down in a torrential maelstrom. After a shattering cacophony, silence once again overtook the Ministry; then Voldemort contemptuously eyed the bronze statue. Centaur, house-elf, goblin, and wizard.

"Fiendfyre." Some were ignorant enough to think that when he used the cursed flame, it was a snake. But no, his fond memories with that curse dated back to his time at Hogwarts, deep in the Chamber of Secrets. And so it was not a fiery snake that erupted from his wand, but a Basilisk, king of serpents, that devoured the Ministry of Magic. Starting with that statue.

"Morsmordre!" High above the remains of the statue, high above the offices where the Fiendfyre Basilisk was weaving back and forth, sowing chaos amongst the deserted offices, a glittering green skull erupted, with a snake weaving out of the skull's mouth and writhing around the sky. Between the basilisk and the dark mark, the ministry was illuminated with an unnatural hazy light

"Come, my servants. I require a palace, from which to view the wreckage of Britain." With impressive control of the Imperius Curse, he delivered a thought to each of his victims - his new servants - and one-by-one they each left via Apparation.

With a somewhat uncoordinated series of sharp 'CRACK's that sounded like a collection of antique cars backfiring together, seven wizards suddenly appeared in front of a large, well-kept manor in Little Hangleton.

"So he really does maintain residence here. How pathetic," Voldemort said under his breath with distaste as he felt the signature tingling of protective enchantments around the Riddle House. He was not here for the manor, however. Instead, the seven turned as one to face to face the shack that stood on the very edge of what was once the manor grounds. The Gaunt Hovel, as it was once known.

Voldemort raised his wand, and the rotting, uneven logs of the shack twisted upon themselves - with four flicks of his wrist, the edges of the roof turned up and became the distinctive lines of Jacobean architecture. The sides bulged, and another wing popped out of each, growing sideways smoothly as Voldemort's wand continued the direction of its magnificent symphony. Arches grew out of solid stone, and solid doors appeared within the arches. Windows appeared in places where parts of the wall had Vanished.

After perhaps a minute, the rotting wooden shack had turned into a stately manor - mostly Jacobean architecture with just a hint of gothic revival excess mixed in for good measure; fit for royal residence and greatly overshadowing the nearby Riddle House.

With one last twist of Voldemort's wand, a granite crest arose above the archway of the main entrance, and a stylized italic S - shaped in a way to intimate that the S was a snake curled in that shape, was the only symbol upon it.

Though the manor seemed complete, Voldemort did not stop there. He paced around the perimeter of the grounds he established somewhat feverishly, his eyes never blinking as he looked at the house, his face never turning from the house as he walked some imaginary property line.

When he came to the spot at which he began his pacing, he said clearly "Fidelius." A wash of magic so powerful that it made them shudder unconsciously passed over the six wizards and witches, who had not moved since their arrival.

The existence of the newly constructed manor collapsed onto a single point, coalescing onto the tip of Voldemort's wand. The entire property was gone, leaving a blank hill. The entire hill was illuminated by a swirling orb of wandlight, which seemed to have a nervous, unstable energy.

Voldemort put the brilliant silver orb at the tip of his wand up to his forehead, and for just a moment his eyes shimmered with that swirling silver light, illuminating the usual red of his eyes.

"Lord Voldemort resides at Slytherin Manor." He said aloud. Each of his loyally Imperiused followers could see the manor once more as it suddenly reappeared at its place in the universe, disorientingly so for those on the property line.

Voldemort and his new servants stepped forward across the property line, and just after they did, Voldemort raised his wand and transfigured a foreboding iron fence into existence - it was easily ten feet tall, topped what looked like wickedly curved fishhooks, and the gate held the same Slytherin crest as the doorway.

When the gate closed with another swish of Voldemort's wand, the same wash of powerful magic from earlier pervaded the senses of the gathered witches and wizards. Voldemort allowed himself a pleased smile.

"Carrow, take your Hit-Wizards and anyone else without a N.E.W.T. in Transfiguration. I want to know the limitations of each of my new loyal subjects - if any of them can't kill a muggle with a Killing Curse, leave their bodies. Strike at one of the Underground stations in London. When you're done, the incantation for my mark is Morsmordre." Voldemort said simply.

"Your will, my lord." Carrow replied immediately, then gathered a few of the others.

"Wait." Voldemort said, as though remembering something. He waved his wand over each wizard and witch in turn.

Their robes became a uniform black in color - of a fine fabric, though the cut was centuries out of fashion. The hoods were up on the robes, and there was a silver mask that obscured their face. Each mask was subtly different - only the eye slits were universal.

"Do be sure to Untransfigure the robes and mask of any servant who doesn't return, Carrow." Voldemort said.

Carrow bowed humbly, and he and two others left with the sharp CRACK of Apparation.

"Rookwood, Bode, and the mudblood." Voldemort said to his remaining servants, his nose turning up in distaste when he came to Hermione. "I do believe my new palace needs furnishings."

He strode off - he needed a fully appointed set of dungeons, secret passageways, and had to curse parts of the manor, just in case the worst happened.

He was thinking so much more clearly since coming through the Veil - it was quite refreshing that he was his old, brilliant self again. He hadn't thought to outfit a base of operations with such mundane things as traps since his time at Hogwarts; he'd planned to do just that to the Riddle House after killing his wretched muggle father and grandparents.

His rediscovered clarity of mind and its probable source was disturbing enough to nearly stop him in his tracks. Thankfully he recovered in an instant, and once more set about cursing his manor and crafting a dungeon.

All it took was a spark, and the crowd gathered in Diagon Alley knew it.

Every storefront was packed with witches and wizards, most with children on their shoulders, scrambling to get a better view - every store was packed with people trying to at least hear. There were wizards even flooding out past the Leaky, into muggle London. It would be a nightmare for the Ministry to hide it from the Muggles, as it was every year.

Then, the crowd had their spark - it had come from Ron Weasley, a cloaked plant within the audience, although they didn't know that. All they saw was a spark of fire, inexplicably winding its way ever faster through them, evading all children's attempts to capture it, more elusive than a snitch, until it suddenly burst upward above the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes storefront, and, in a grand explosion of fireworks, transfigured the red-haired smiling clown with a removable tophat into a stage.

A stage with the Weird Sisters on it.

They burst into their most popular old hit - the decade old "Like A Hippogriff" and the crowd erupted. More fireworks went off strategically, as planned, and a glittery W erupted into the air, followed by a sizable space, and then another W.

From the stage, a dark cloaked wizard rocketed into the sky, leaving a trail of matching glittery skywriting. The crowd - familiar with this rather famous wizard's unique trick, erupted into even louder cheers as he wrote the final W in his unique script before landing in a crouched pose.

He shed his cloak with the help of two scantily-clad Veela - who only added to the ferocity of the crowd's cheers - revealing the incredibly glamorous and unmistakable decadence of an Acromantula silk robe, black yet almost reflective in its depth. The cut was unmistakably from the nearby shop of Twilfit & Tatting - unreleased, no doubt it would be all the rage soon enough.

The Veela finished their dance to the Weird Sisters' music and he let them, emphasizing the last note with a flourish of their wand and a wink to the lead singer.

"Thank you all for coming to my birthday," Harry Potter said to the crowd with a roguish grin and a Sonorus so casual that no one noticed he'd done it.

"We'll open up the shop soon enough, but I'm pretty sure you're wondering what the new products are - after all, I only tell Professor Flitwick the counter-charm to the big disasters after they've stuck around a week!" The crowd laughed appreciatively. Although Flitwick was able to reverse the twins' Portable Swamp in less than a day, once Harry got involved they became significantly trickier. The "first sale" always went for 100 galleons because of this.

"In the same vein as the portable swamp, up for 'first sale' today is the Portable Jungle. Be sure to stock up on the machetes if you plan on attempting to traverse it! The Portable Jungle almost instantly regrows from either machete or Severing Charms." Harry said. A Portable Jungle opened up in the middle of the Alley to several shrieks - and then 'oohs' of delight - and he continued, "The Jungle might be a bit of a welcome break from the dreary weather we've been having lately!"

"And speaking of a break from the weather, the Jacuzzi necklace is the next bit of new charms work I came up with this past year, and it's one of my personal favorites. For an hour each day, the Jacuzzi Necklace can provide you with a perfect temperature, piping hot Jacuzzi for you and up to three of your friends. Swimwear included for you!" As he finished speaking, four people in the crowd had a Jacuzzi necklace put on them and it activated, placing them in swimwear and others in the crowd in the jacuzzi in their robes - a few quick transfigurations from Harry and everyone was comfortable and in awe of the enchanted necklaces.

With barely a thought, everyone under the age of fifteen found themselves with earmuffs that had silencing charms that were playing the Weird Sisters' next song - they didn't find this too disappointing.

"And for the WonderWitch line, Switching bracelets for you and your honey-bun. Merely switch the bracelets on and -" a few gasps from the crowd indicated that certain peoples hands were no longer on their own arms.

"I do apologize about that - I had to guess at who were couples here! Hope I didn't mix it up too bad!" Harry said with a wide grin and the crowd's raucous applause. "I don't think I need to spell out the kinds of fun you can have with the Switching Bracelets, but I expect them to be a big seller. They work at all kinds of distances - so for you teens still at Hogwarts with a special someone in another House...well..." Harry's eyes twinkled merrily. "When either of you takes the bracelet off, the charm is cancelled. Be sure to find the one other bracelet in the crowd that matches yours!"

Harry waved his wand with a snap of his wrist and the silenced earmuffs on the heads of the younger kids Vanished - just as the Weird Sisters song ended.

"Now, I certainly don't want to keep you too much longer so I'll be brief! We also have Double-Fanged Frisbees that can literally eat your whole arm off, new dreams of Daydream Charms, Anti-Disarming Gloves, Wall-Climbing Trainers, Leaping Trainers and Landing Kneepads! We've got X-Ray Monocles, Extendable Eyeballs, Extendable Tongues, Extendable Fingers - no, that's not a WonderWitch Product, though maybe it should be! - and of course, a wide range of candies that will cause every imaginable bodily fluid to come out of every imaginable bodily orifice!" Predictably, the children mostly cheered at this - Fred and George might never grow up, but there was a market for that, and always would be.

"So come on in to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" The doors slammed open with a series of crashes and more fireworks, and the Weird Sisters played another deafeningly loud song, amplified by Harry's own further wandwork, this time. He conducted merrily as the Alley emptied, the highlight of each year over.

When the song ended, Harry and the Weird sisters disappeared in a 'poof' of smoke, and the red-haired, green-hatted figure reappeared as though he'd always been there. Harry and the band appeared in one of the rooms above the shop.

"Great performance as always, guys!" Harry said, clapping Kirley Duke, the lead guitar player, on the shoulder in a friendly way.

"Thanks Harry. The plan's still for you to join us on kazoo next year, right?" He said with a smirk.

"I thought it was supposed to be guitar?" Harry retorted with a grin.

"Ha! I remember that lesson at our Yule party, mate. Not unless you enchant the thing to play itself!" The band, along with Harry, laughed appreciatively.

"Fair enough - I'll stick to showboating, you blokes play music and cross-dress. Thanks again guys." He said before they packed up and left him alone upstairs.

"It was good of you to wait for the band to leave before revealing yourself." Harry said the instant the last band member popped away, raising his wand at a section of the wall.

With a flick, an invisibility cloak flew off, revealing a petrified wizard. Oddly enough, Harry recognized him - he was distinctive, with a long scar across his face, and a glass eye replacing his left where his scar had cursed his left eye out. It whirled about, looking Harry up and down.

Harry released the petrified wizard, keeping his wand trained on him.

"Potter." Moody said in greeting.

"'Lo." Harry replied with equal warmth. "Nice scar." He continued. Moody grinned, his eye whirling around a bit.

"I got it from Grindelwa-" Harry interrupted him.

"I wasn't talking about the one on your face. I mean the one on your chest. It has burn paste all over it. I imagine that means it's fresh." Moody stopped talking, staring down Harry.

Harry lowered his wand, then, and it disappeared into his robe sleeve. He ambled carefully over to the bar on the other side of the sizable room - intended to entertain guests and entire Weasley families - while still keeping an eye on the famous Head Auror.

"Care for a drink?" Harry asked evenly. Moody nodded gruffly before smoothly striding across the room, taking a seat at the bar.

"Scotch. Three ice cubes. Single malt - one that's old enough to drink it's own scotch; I know you've got it." Harry smiled and nodded appreciatively and gave him a healthy pour. He treated himself to some schnapps, his own favorite liquor.

"So what can I do for the Auror Office today, Mr. Moody?" Harry asked, joining him on the other side of the bar after leaving the bottles out for them.

"This morning's Prophet. They had to delay printing by a few hours to get the story - if they hadn't, your little show out there might not have pulled such an impressive crowd." Moody said, setting the folded up newspaper on the bar in front of Harry.

The front page article had an impressive picture of the Ministry Atrium up in flames; Harry could barely make out the outline of a fiery snake curled upon a pool of liquid brass that used to be the Fountain of Magical Brethren. The headline of the front page was Ministry Burns!

Harry read just a bit more of the article - supposition and guesses, since it was too early to actually tell much for sure. Moody finished his scotch as Harry flipped through a few pages, and poured another glass.

"Fiendfyre set off in the Atrium. We found what's left of the night guard's body. Most of the offices are still burning; we've brought in curse-breakers, but if you've ever heard of Fiendfyre...well, anything you might have heard is probably true. It's a bitch to extinguish." Moody finished underwhelmingly.

"I'm sorry for the Ministry's loss. I'm glad you Aurors seem to be investigating the matter." Harry said diplomatically. "I do wonder, however, what you might be doing here - is there something I can do to help your Office, Mister Moody?" Both of the Head Auror's eyes focused on Harry for a moment, and he felt the slightest pull at his mind - like curtains being pulled aside. Harry kept his focus on the schnapps, and the rest of his thoughts clearly out of mind as he sipped the alcohol. He held Moody's gaze for the length of a drink before looking away, feigning ignorance at the attempted Legilimency.

"What can you tell me about my new curse scar, Mr. Potter?" Moody said as soon as eye contact was broken.

"Well with the evidence you brought from the Daily Prophet, I had imagined your burn was related to Fiendfyre." Harry smiled benignly.

"I'm afraid the loss of the Ministry of Magic's records on the centaur tribes are the least of my concerns today, Potter. Now, I've heard you have a few tricks. Tell me about the curse scar." Moody said more insistently.

Harry raised his eyebrow at the command, but went through the typical diagnostic charms that every wizard learned at Hogwarts - Revelio and the more advanced Scarpin's Reveal-A-Spell.

"Dark Magic, of course. It's a failed spell, which most couldn't tell you...intended to kill, but then so many are, especially if they hit you in the chest." Harry drawled in a bored tone.

"I could've gone to any medi-witch in Britain for that. Here I'd heard you were something, Potter. Good day." Moody slammed back the remainder of his scotch and got up off his stool.

Harry let him get exactly three steps before he quietly said - almost whispered, "Wait."

He rose off the stool and raised his left hand above where he saw the scar and burn paste to be. He closed his eyes and felt the ugliness of the magic, familiarized himself with it, let it seep into his hand, and almost gagged from the feeling of it. All of this before he'd even finished reaching out his hand toward Moody.

It took less than an instant, but it felt like a full minute before he shook the feeling of the curse.

"Killing Curse, inexpertly cast - probably by someone commanded to do it. Since righteous anger or a parental command wouldn't leave so much as a nosebleed, I'd wager someone who can't cast it but was told to under the Imperius Curse?" Harry said dispassionately, burying his distaste and gag reflex at the feel of the magic.

"Precisely. And well done. Your expertise is even better than Professor Dumbledore said - he wagered it would take you ten seconds." Harry smiled tightly, but offered no explanation.

"Last night, the storms disappeared. Coincidentally, something came through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. Fought several wizards - including Minister Riddle - to a standstill. Left many others - including your godfather Auror Sirius Black, and myself - wounded and/or near dead. Three Unspeakables and Three Hit-Wizards were put under the Imperius Curse and are unaccounted for - presumably they are with the creature." Harry looked troubled, especially when they mentioned Sirius.

"While I appreciate the news about Sirius, why are you telling me all of this? It sounds quite classified." He said warily. Moody smirked ironically and pulled a file out of his robe, tossing it on a coffee table in front of one of Harry's overstuffed couches.

"Your security clearance just got bumped up, Potter. I've known about your little 'outfit' for some time now. You've got enough gadgets to really do some damage, and I think you ought to be put to use. I got sucker-punched in exactly ten seconds by that thing, Potter. And I'm one of the top Aurors in the Ministry. We need to think outside the box on this one if we want to stop this...Voldemort. And judging by the mess you make here with the Weasleys, thinking outside the box is your specialty." Harry nodded thoughtfully, all humor gone from his face.

"I'll think about it. Thank you for the offer. I'm sorry about your telephone booth." Harry said, cryptically referring to the public entrance to the Ministry.

"And Potter, I know you're close with that Granger girl. She was one of the Unspeakables taken." Moody added. Harry tried to interrupt for more information but Moody continued on. "Someone - probably Robards - will be in touch, Potter. I think you created these so I know you know how they work." Moody said, tossing Harry a silver lighter with a very familiar phoenix embossed on it. Harry flipped it open and sure enough it was one of his more practical inventions, sold downstairs - a Flooghter. He closed it, extinguishing the green flame that would allow him to communicate with anyone on the Floo Network.

With a 'CRACK!' Harry was once again alone. And most certainly in need of more schnapps.

Harry was spit out of the Visitor's Floo of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries with his typical inelegance with that particular form of travel - that is to say, he came out butt first and bowled over two witches who ended up on top of him, all of them covered head to toe in soot.

With a thoughtless Cleaning Charm the soot vanished and their robes were pressed - even the logs in the fire were a bit straighter than before Harry emerged - and Harry apologized to the women and helped the up, while their eyes widened comically when they realized who he was.

St. Mungo's, he realized with more than a little annoyance, was absolutely packed. Which made sense, after an attack at the Ministry that left probably half a dozen people at the tender mercies of medi-witches.

Harry should have known Mad-Eye Moody had gone Against Medi-witch's Advice and checked himself out early. There was the typical twenty or so people that belonged to the patients - families, Harry supposed, and their accompanying balloons and children - and then there were the Ministry personnel and the Press. Harry grimaced noticeably. With the Minister himself injured, there were at least another twenty people bustling about, quills out - either trying to get a quote or an estimate of when they could get in to see the Minister about seeing him so that they could give a quote.

Looney, the lot of them, and some people wondered why Harry had no desire to enter politics. Harry only relented his Notice-Me-Not Charm once he reached the Welcome Desk, and inquired of the matronly clerk which room Sirius Black was currently in.

"Fourth Floor, room 403. But I'm afraid we've been instructed not to allow him to receive guests until the Aurors can debrief him - you're welcome to wait here with all the other visitors." Harry smiled appreciatively and thanked her.

He cast a Notice-Me-Not Charm and pulled his father's Invisibility Cloak around him.

"Portus," he said under his breath as he tapped his wand against a quill he glibly plucked from the clerk's desk. It glowed blue with a soft light for a moment, then Harry and the quill both disappeared - to Harry it was the mildly discomforting swirl of a Portkey, and he reappeared in Room 403.

Sirius was lying in his bed, awake but looking as awful as Harry had ever seen him, ghastly pale and sickly - as though he'd been out all night on the worst bender of his life, so not terribly unusual. Beside the bed was a macabre mannequin with a clear body; it was filled with organs.

"Harry!" Sirius said with some imitation of his usual cheer. Harry noticed that the mannequin's lungs moved when Sirius breathed - it was surreal.

"Hey there Sirius. I heard you went into the wrong hotel room at the Leaky and got surprised by a couple experimenting with polyjuice. I'm surprised you aren't laying on your other side." Harry said with a straight face. Sirius chuckled, then grimaced.

"Ugh, don't make me laugh, Harry - damn Rupturing Curse, I'm having to regrow every organ in my body. I don't even have balls any more!" He exclaimed loudly. Harry smiled appreciatively.

"Did you ever?" He said, playing along with Sirius' antics. He deserved that, being injured.

"What did your loving godfather ever do to deserve such spite, young Harry? All I ever did was show you love and affection." Sirius said, hamming up his wounds.

"What can I say, your memory charms must not be so good and I half-recalled some bad touches in the closet at Christmas." Sirius laughed again, then clutched at his stomach in pain.

"I'm trying to regrow organs here, Harry, have some respect!" He only half-joked. Harry reached out, subtly sensing the spell residue of Sirius' wounds and shook his head disappointingly before waving his wand again over Sirius' stomach.

"Well then here - who did that Numbing Charm, a volunteer right out of their O.W.L. year? That's half the problem. I have no idea if the bruise paste they gave you is any good, but I imagine it's at least decent - unless they're still letting Slughorn's students provide it. Merlin knows why anyone thought that was a good idea, unless it was to line Sluggy's pockets." Harry had always suspected that was exactly the reason, as much as he liked his overly friendly former Potions teacher.

"Oh, that's so much better, Harry. I should get you to cast a Numbing Charm on my hand every once in awhile so that...never mind." Harry and Sirius both smiled, and Harry shook his head.

"I thought you weren't allowed to be in here, by the way, not that I don't appreciate your superior nursing abilities. Something about a debrief - I've already had one by Mad-Eye, but he said someone else was going to come around." Sirius said. Harry just smiled. When the Minister rolled into the room however - quite literally, as it was an impressively transfigured wheelchair, with his organ dummy animated to march behind him - there was no smile on his face.

"Yes...I shall have to remember that just because an entire unit is on security lockdown that does not necessarily mean that Mr. Potter does not have unlimited access. Very useful information to know." Minister Tom Riddle said harshly.

"Minister Riddle! I don't believe we've had the pleasure." Harry said glibly. "I voted for you." Sirius stifled a chuckle unsuccessfully, and even Riddle's lips pursed as though he was fighting a smirk.

"Thankfully, your visit doesn't happen to be a security breach, as you already have some of the pertinent information in a brief that has been delivered to you." Riddle turned to address Sirius, "Your godson has been given lofty security clearance in order to address the recent threat, Mr. Black. Knowledge of his involvement is not to be shared."

"Wait...what's Harry's involvement? Is he making weapons or explosives for you or something?" Sirius asked, confused.

"I don't even know if I'm going to be involved yet." Harry defended. Riddle smiled.

"His involvement is largely beyond your concern, Mr. Black. From his reputation, Harry is one of the finest wizards of his generation - he'll contribute as he is able. I believe he will make himself quite useful. Infiltration, at least, seems to be a specialty of his." Riddle said with a glance at Harry, who raised an eyebrow unrepentantly - he had been chastised by far more intimidating men.

"I would like very much to extract your memory of the fight in the Department of Mysteries, Mr. Black. Just in case it reveals anything my own perceptions might have missed. Your memories will be returned to you after they have been reviewed." Riddle said somewhat officially. Sirius grabbed his wand from the nearby table - Harry's Numbing Charm really must have had him feeling a lot better - and conjured up a phial. He raised his wand to his temple and dutifully withdrew the memory; the end of it seemed to schlurp a bit as it came out of his head, and he deposited it into the phial as one might wipe earwax.

Riddle took the phial without comment.

"Excellent. Now, Mr. Potter, I am awaiting a few guests that our friend Mister Moody had a bit of a chat with last night - I would appreciate it if you would join me for a round of introductions. Don't worry about your godfather," he said, seeing Harry glance at Sirius. "He has several other visitors awaiting him - your parents amongst them." Riddle turned his wheelchair around, and his organ-filled mannequin nearly leapt out of his way as he rolled himself towards the door.

"I'll be back soon, Sirius." Harry said, clasping Sirius' hand and smiling at him before following Riddle out of the room.

"I've appropriated a room down the hall as my temporary office. I don't feel the need to have everyone view the fight in the Department of Mysteries separately, so once everyone on this little team we're building has arrived, we'll view it together." Harry followed the Minister down the hall in some silence, still uncertain about his role in all of this, and indeed why he would be chosen at all.

The Minister wasn't quite what Harry had expected - though truthfully he didn't know much about him beside his being touted as "the most powerful wizard alive", eclipsing even the reputation of Harry's old Headmaster, Dumbledore. Riddle's rise as the shining star of Wizarding Britain was only paralleled - though there were vast differences - by Harry's own meteoric rise to fame and mastery of enchantments. Riddle wielded his prodigious magical skill and intellect as a weapon - his keen eyes were impossible to hide, and the animation of the sac that carried replacement organs was delicate and impressive work - and wielded his political power like a scalpel.

Harry glanced down at the man, looking fragile in the wheelchair, his organs behind him in the mannequin, and Harry wondered what his fame and skill looked like, from an outside view. It was sobering, and with the obvious comparisons to Riddle he no longer wondered why he merited an invitation.

He was shaken from his reverie by the Minister opening the door to the conference room. Harry was fairly certain this room was not St. Mungo's standard.

Floor to ceiling windows lined two of the walls, bathing the room in warm natural sunlight - the room opened to a cliffside view of what Harry was fairly certainly was either the Mediterranean around France, or the Aegean. The floors were a dark hardwood, pristine - newly transfigured, if Harry had to guess. All of the cabinets and furniture around the room matched the deep mahogany of the floors. Notably, there was a desk near the far wall that was enormous; most of ten feet across with half a dozen scrolls of parchment unfurled on it - quills were animatedly writing on these, then appeared to be hovering in place for signatures. There were a bundle of others that also looked to be awaiting signatures.

Riddle wheeled over there with a flourish of his wand and hurriedly signed a dozen scrolls after a few cursory glances. As he sealed each one with a stamp of his signet ring on the wax, they glowed blue slightly as they were Portkeyed away. Neat trick - Harry made a note to steal it some time.

"Sorry about that, Harry - emergency protocols to enact. The situation is quite serious, I'm sure you'll appreciate that once you've been fully briefed. Even the information Moody gave you earlier should be enough to inform you that the threat is quite real." Riddle said, shaking his head.

"I didn't notice anything in the packet about the motivation of this Voldemort. The packet said that you believe he's a wizard, but what is his goal? Even Grindelwald didn't just show up and start cursing people at random." Harry said, voicing his concern.

"I'm afraid we don't know, Harry. You'll see in the Pensieve memory that our interactions were limited mostly to flinging spells back and forth. His judicious use of the Imperius Curse seems to indicate that he doesn't want to kill everyone so much as...perhaps infiltrate? It's a matter that we're still discussing." Riddle explained. Harry nodded in distracted agreement - perhaps the Pensieve memories might shed more light on Voldemort's plans.

With a soft whoosh of air that signaled a more traditional Portkey, Harry noticed the arrival of two others. Mad-Eye Moody looked much the same as he had a few hours before, his glass eye whirling around somewhat wildly as it surveyed the room. He had on his crimson Auror cloak, which he removed and hung on the coat stand by the door. Beneath those, he wore stately black robes.

Next to him was an acquaintance of Harry's, but only just. Nymphadora Tonks had a heart-shaped face that wore its usual bored expression, purple hair that turned pink to match her bubble-gum when she blew a bubble, and today wore dark green robes that clashed something awful with her hair.

"Tonks, it's been awhile." Harry said with a smile. Tonks' mother was a Black, and the only cousin Sirius could stand. They'd met every few holidays at some party or another. Harry was unwilling to admit to rumors of a crush he may have harbored on the girl when he was eleven; Sirius still teased him about it.

"Wotcher, Harry. What in the name of Merlin's Pants are you doing here?" She asked, glancing at Riddle oddly.

"I was wondering the same about you. Unless you've managed to turn your ability to stumble into anything into some kind of deadly weapon?" Harry joked. She rolled her eyes at him.

"I happen to be a highly trained Auror, and the foremost expert on infiltration that the Corps has ever had. I'm only like, 30, and rewriting the book on it." Harry knew that she was just a few years older than 30, but decided to leave that comment alone.

"Yeah, well you forget I'm pretty much the best." Harry said casually. Tonks sent a Trip Jinx his way for his cheek.

Even though this particular set of robes wasn't nearly as enchanted as a set that he might wear into a fight like the one that landed Sirius down the hall in the tender mercies of St. Mungo's, the protective charms on it were more than enough to spit Tonks' Trip Jinx right back at her - her eyes widened before she landed face first on the hardwood floor.

"Blimey." She said, looking at him oddly before getting up off the ground and dusting off her robes.

"Stop fooling around," Moody said gruffly. "Dumbledore should be here any minute, then we can get this thing started."

Almost as if on cue, a burst of intense flame and phoenix song arose in the center of the room.

Dumbledore had arrived, stately in his periwinkle robes, a merry smile on his face, eyes twinkling at them. His flowing white hair was plaited at his back in a very genteel fashion this morning, and his beard was similarly tamed, which Harry knew was 'dressing up' for the Headmaster.

"Ah, my old friends and students! It has been far too long. Miss Tonks, I am sorry that our meeting here has extracted you from your mission to pursue Dolohov in Russia. Several of my compatriots at the ICW were very interested in your progress pursuing him. Alastor, it's been far too long - I wish it were better circumstances. Tom, my friend." Albus said, greeting Tom warmly, though with some concern as he saw the wheelchair and the mannequin standing at attention behind the desk.

Dumbledore snapped his wand at the side of the large desk, and a brilliant golden perch appeared - Harry had seen its identical twin many times in Dumbledore's office. Fawkes chirped softly and flew from the old man's shoulder to the newly conjured perch.

"And Harry. It is so very good to see you again. It has been a very short seven years, I'm afraid, since you've left the castle. Your mother has threatened my life if I don't tell you to visit more often - seeing as how she's here today to see Sirius, I suggest you take advantage of the opportunity." Albus said with a wink, giving Harry a hug and holding him at arm's length to peer down at him through his half-moon glasses.

"It's good to see you too, Professor Dumbledore. I hope you liked the birthday present I got you - socks just don't seem to cut it for me, despite your insistence." Harry said with a grin.

"Very cleverly charmed, Harry. Though when you found the opportunity to take apart the spellwork on my Deluminator I'll never know, but being able to light and put-out Horace's pipe at will is a handy trick. Thank you." Dumbledore said with mirth in his eyes.

"You can validate Potter's overdeveloped sense of self-worth on your own time, Dumbledore." Moody said with a drawl that lacked any real malice. "Let's get down to brass cauldrons here, gentlemen."

"Last night, a hostile wizard of unknown origin entered the Department of Mysteries and incapacitated or seriously injured about a dozen trained witches and wizards - all of them Aurors, Unspeakables, and Hit-Wizards, or the Minister here. As a result, we now have at least half a dozen of the aforementioned missing, under the Imperius Curse. Afterward, they marched out of the Atrium together, and burnt the Ministry to the ground with Fiendfyre. If someone hadn't thought to call in Albus soon enough, half of London might be on fire. As it is, the Ministry is still smouldering. Everyone else at the Ministry who wasn't put under the Imperius Curse - besides myself and the Minister - are in hospital beds here in St. Mungo's." Moody paused here for dramatic effect, though Harry doubted much of this was actually news to any of the gathered.

"This wizard is an exceptional threat. Standard protocols for the Aurors - tracking or engagement - are completely insufficient. Protocols say take a squad of five Hit-Wizards along - when this Voldemort can toss around the Imperius Curse like he can, congratulations, you've given him five more allies!" Moody barked angrily, mostly at himself.

"We need a response team for this type of threat. A team of exceptional individuals who, together, can do what the entire Auror Office can't - bring Voldemort down. We have to mobilize quickly, organize; while he is largely without resources. We do not want to know what he is capable of if he is allowed time to gather them." Moody looked over each of the assembled wizards and witches with his whirling eye, pausing on Harry for the longest, in his opinion.

"Dumbledore, Riddle, Potter - each of you is the greatest wizard of your generation. I don't think the Headmaster or the Minister need an introduction, but I've done a bit of recon about Potter. You aren't the duelist that the other two are - obviously there hasn't been a Grindelwald any time lately, and you never hit the international circuit like the Minister did, but anyone with half a brain knows that the Wheezes shop is more than fancy tricks. You're creative as hell, and inventive with both your charms work and your mind. Not only that, but you've traveled all over the damned world learning new ways to make a menace of yourself, and I've no doubt you've kept most of it a secret. And as your cousin just witnessed, I know all about your experimentation with robes." Moody said, sending him a serious look.

"That came about when I was travelling internationally." Harry explained. "Got into a bit of trouble with a...well, let's call her an "overly amorous" hag in Bruges. I keep at least a minimal set of protection charms on all my robes ever since. And when I know there might be trouble - a lot more. I have a few nice sets worked out." Harry conveniently didn't mention the Graphorn Hide he'd procured with some help from his old friend Viktor Krum in Belarus, and how it fit like a very tight glove under his heavily enchanted robes, if he was actually expecting trouble. Of course, it made breathing a bit difficult, but it was a small price to pay for being able to take the Rupturing Curse that left Sirius regrowing his organs and not being too much worse for wear.

"Impressive enchantments any way they came about, Harry. As you know, my own focus is transfiguration - the furthest I ever delved into enchantment resulted in my Deluminator. Impressive, I admit, but limited in its own right." Dumbledore said with a smile at one of his favorite students.

"Yes, yes, Dumbledore - listen to yourself talk on your own time." Dumbledore chuckled at Moody's chastisement. "As you'll see, protections like that will make Potter very valuable. I've no doubt that Voldemort will bring a gaggle of Imperiused wizards and witches along to any fight we force him into. You'll see why in a few minutes, but those will largely be Potter's responsibility. With powerfully enchanted robes like he has, he should be able to shrug off most of their curses, even if he just stands there and can't counter-curse them."

"That brings us to the other member of the team here, Nymphadora Tonks. Junior Auror, but then she's always been one of my personal favorites, selected for missions well above her pay grade - like pursuing that piece of gryphon shite Dolohov, from Ireland to Germany to Norway to Russia. Bastard has hidey-holes in more countries...anyway. Tonks here has a few very special skills herself." In just a second's concentration, Tonks had morphed into a perfect replica of Mad-Eye Moody - complete with spinning eye. Then she turned into a twin of Harry, then Riddle - after conjuring a passable imitation of his wheelchair - and then Dumbledore, complete with half-moon spectacles and twinkling eyes.

"Wow, Tonks, you've come a long way from making animal faces at parties." Harry said with a grin, remembering her stupid party trick.

"I can't quite do entire animal bodies, but there are a few I can do enough to fake for an hour or so." Tonks said with pride. With a teasing look at Harry, she added, "I'd probably have to have your dad whip out his old chaser's hands and give me one of his dreamy massages afterwards though, because my back always kills me."

"Very good, Tonks." Moody said, cutting off the byplay between the two childhood friends. "Now, let's dive into the Pensieve memories - Dumbledore, I take it you brought yours along? Good." He said when Dumbledore confirmed with a nod. "There's some commentary I'd like to make afterward, but I won't bias your first viewing."

Riddle wheeled out from behind his desk to join them in a circle, and with a tight circle and jab of his wand, an ornate golden stand was conjured; it had deceptively thin arms that reached up to seamlessly morph into outstretched wyvern claws. Midway down, the light etchings and filigree on the arms gave way to full blown overlay - a fine set of fern leaves that trailed down each leg of the stand. Harry was upset at his own jealousy; the stand was breathtaking, and there was no way he could have conjured anything like it.

"Thank you, Tom." Dumbledore said with a polite smile as he pulled aside a fold of his robe and pulled out all four feet of his giant stone Pensieve. Harry wasn't the only one with a few charms on his robes, then. The Pensieve naturally fit in Tom's stand as though the two had been made together.

"I must say, since I emptied it this morning and put all my memories back in my own head, my skull has never felt so full. It will be good to empty it again." Dumbledore said as he gestured to the Pensieve with a wink at Harry. Tom smiled too and put his wand - it was a very pale wand, now that Harry had a chance to view it up close, almost peach-colored - up to his temple, then drew back from it a silver memory and put it directly in the Pensieve. A few moments later he unstoppered the memory gotten from Sirius and dumped it in the Pensieve as well.

"Now here's an interesting technique - I'll combine the memories into one, making the observations more clear and precise than either of the separate recollections. We can separate them later, don't worry, Tom." Albus said with a gentle smile. He stuck his wand in, then stirred carefully. After exactly six turns around the basin, he stopped - Harry thought he could see the Veil in the swirl of the watery memories.

"Heads in, everyone." Albus said, gesturing to everyone. It had been some time since Harry had joined his old Professor in his Pensieve, but, together with Riddle and Dumbledore he dunked his head.

A familiar falling sensation then an abrupt stop and Harry caught himself handily; Harry managed a glance at Minister Riddle before smoothing the front of his robes unconsciously, only to notice the Minister doing the same before he could stop himself. Harry looked away somewhat awkwardly.

Professor Dumbledore had entered the Pensieve memory as easily as taking a step while walking, and Moody's entry was only slightly rougher than Harry and Riddle's - his eye still spun around wildly, but the rest of him gave no indication of discomfort. Tonks, on the other hand, gracelessly landed shoulder-first; Harry shook his head in chagrin and offered her a hand up, which she took in annoyance.

Harry noticed his old friend Hermione - it was clearly her feminine frame underneath the Unspeakable robes - in a conversation with Riddle, along with Moody. Around the room there were a dozen figures in the typical crimson cloaks of the Auror Corps, the grey, face-concealing Unspeakable robes, or the assorted and eclectic attire of three Hit-Wizards. Harry recognized their Head, Amycus Carrow, along with Marcus Flint, whom he knew from his days at Hogwarts playing Quidditch.

There was the vicious howl of wind and occasional peal of thunder - it was like being in the middle of a hurricane. But there was no accompanying rain, and the wind - even in the memory - felt unnatural, blowing across their skin. It gave Harry goosebumps that had nothing to do with his being chilly.

The dozen or so gaseous yellow orbs floating around the room - detectors of some kind, that much Harry could deduce, but he'd have to handle them to deduce their purpose any further - turned orange and the room seemed to grow a hundred times more vivid around them. This, then was the part of the memory that was important.

Hermione had drawn her wand and immediately begun casting protective charms, as had another of the Unspeakables.

"Is there a problem, Unspeakable? What does the orange smoke mean?" Memory Riddle asked calmly. Memory Moody had already drawn his wand and, unlike Hermione, was casting protective charms not around the Veil, but around himself and the Minister - Hermione was standing close enough to them that she was within their protection too, coincidentally.

"Orange means an unknown imminent threat is coming." Hermione responded distractedly. Memory Moody spat out a curse once he finished his next protective charm. The wind picked up even louder, and it was difficult to make out what people were saying.

Sirius stopped his conversation and went over to the other caster; seeing what he was casting, he joined in - Harry noticed the tried-and-true "Protego Totalum" along with the more complex wand waving of "Protego Horribilis" from Sirius.

"Croaker! What is the hell does that mean, an unknown imminent threat?!" Memory Moody questioned loudly over the even louder wind.

Then a marble half-sphere emerged as Riddle arched his wand over his head, forming a barricade; it had an eye-slit in it, but was otherwise a formidable barrier of solid steel. Harry watched as everyone else in the room saw it and paused.

The Unspeakable nearest Sirius, whom Moody had referred to as Croaker, made to emulate it and mostly succeeded, his own barricade formed from marble identical to that of the wall it was crafted from. Sirius and two Unspeakables were held within it, and Harry saw another wall form outside of it, reinforcing it.

Outside of the two bunkers, several wizards who couldn't quite manage such feats of transfiguration erected solid walls of marble - of varying thicknesses and heights - to huddle behind.

With a blinding CRACK, a bolt of lightning struck inside the chamber and blue fire spread throughout it; the walls of marble proved wholly insufficient to holding back the fire, and those huddled behind mere physical barriers found those destroyed, and themselves flung bodily around the chamber. The only ones left standing were viewers in the Pensieve.

What Harry and those who joined him could see clearly - and what Riddle, in the memory, could see a few moments later when he was the first to emerge from his bunker - was a naked, pale wizard huddled in the fetal position where the Veil once stood. It now consisted of two blackened pieces of granite, one on each side of the crouched wizard.

Harry viewed Voldemort's unnatural body, peered into his red eyes at the same time Riddle did, and could see the burning hatred.

For some reason, more than anyone else in the room, Voldemort despised Riddle.

And from the look on Riddle's face, he knew exactly why.

Harry thought about just what that might mean for a few seconds, and missed the Minister speaking in the memory.

"Imperio." Even Voldemort's voice was a thing of nightmare - inhuman, cold, and grating.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Stupefy!" Harry watched Moody drop to the ground from Hermione's curse. Voldemort's rasp of laughter erupted from his throat as though it were sandpaper, he taunted Riddle, lazily flung a curse at the Minister that bristled against Harry's skin, it was so powerful, and woke up Hermione with barely a thought.

"I don't typically allow observers! Is that you, Rookwood, old friend?! Imperio!" Voldemort shouted with some glee in his voice. Harry thought that choice of words odd - did he know Rookwood, then? The Unspeakable seemed to fight the Imperius Curse less than Hermione did - he turned on his fellows without even a second's hesitation, turning Sirius on the defensive. Sirius was pinned down by Rookwood and Hermione under the remaining wall of Croaker's marble bunker, and was trading spells with the bewitched Unspeakables, managing to hold them off without yet seeming to be in too much danger.

Now the fight got interesting - Croaker fell after ensuring Sirius could fight off the Imperius Curse, and Voldemort, who had put the Imperius Curse on two Hit-Wizards while Minister Riddle blasted the animated remains of his own transfigured bunker to smithereens, unnoticed to the Minister, again went on the offensive against Riddle.

Sirius flung Rookwood against a wall soon after Hermione collapsed in a heap, but only a few moments later - after bounding towards Voldemort - was writhing under his Cruciatus Curse.

This gave Riddle the opening he needed, and he tossed Voldemort against the wall like a puppet, casually battered him against the wall, then blasted him clear through the marble with a well-cast Blasting Curse that detonated like a bomb.

Unfortunately, Tom had never noticed the Imperius Curses that had bound the Hit Wizards to the will of Voldemort, and Amycus Carrow's Rupturing Curse hit Minister Riddle at the same time that Marcus Flint's hit Sirius.

Harry, Tom, Albus, Tonks, and Moody raised their heads out of the Pensieve in some deliberation as the memory faded into nothingness.

"Carrow will be lucky to be a maintenance wizard when he comes back, I swear to Merlin." Tom said, breaking the silence of the room.

"At least it wasn't Flint. I'm never letting Sirius live that one down. I mean, he actually failed his seventh year." Harry said, fighting back a grin. Tom nodded in agreement.

"And Moody, I thought you said you lasted ten seconds - you got sucker-punched by Hermione. How does that happen when you have an eye that can literally see out the back of your head?" Harry said, remembering his first conversation - or was it briefing? - with the Head Auror. Said Head Auror did not look amused, but Tonks snorted appreciatively.

"As lovely as this room in St. Mungo's is - and I know you must remain here for the duration of your recovery, Tom - I believe the rest of us should discuss strategy. And one prime concern is where we shall meet. I do not believe St. Mungo's will be amenable to being our...headquarters." Albus said with some seriousness. After seeing the duel, he had lost most of the mirth that he started the day with. When no one else jumped in, he continued.

"I have a suggestion - my family's old cottage in Godric's Hollow. It is not well known. I've kept it, though I haven't been there in years. There are some painful memories there, unfortunately. But with some cleaning up, I believe it could be a perfect meeting spot. It's Unplottable, and I've put in a few security charms myself. But most of all, it's rather esoteric - I can't imagine why anyone would think to go there besides myself - or possibly my brother Abe." Albus said lightly.

Moody nodded distractedly, gathering his cloak. "That sounds fine, Albus. Godric's Hollow it is - out of the way, in Somerset, I believe. Should be a nice relaxing little getaway." If Mad-Eye Moody were the type of wizard to smirk ironically, he would have. Instead he just glanced around, as though daring the assembled group to question the fact that he'd just a bit of a joke.

"Now, Minister, as we discussed I believe I need to search out a few experts on the Imperius Curse. You had the Obliviation Protocol re-enacted?" Moody asked hurriedly, glancing briefly at Harry and Dumbledore.

"As you requested, Alastor. I can't say I was happy to see that particular power granted carte blanche to the Auror Office, but should I hear word of your indiscretion, I trust I shan't be forgetting about it." Riddle said, smiling tightly.

"I just don't want to tip our hand, Minister. We'll be seeing each other soon," he said to Tom. He turned to Harry, Dumbledore, and Tonks. "Robards will be your liason to the Auror Office when I can't be around - I'll send a Patronus, but he'll probably come by Godric's Hollow tomorrow. Good day." He said before walking out of Riddle's room into St. Mungo's proper.

"I wonder if these enchanted windows work on his eye." Harry said what he'd been wondering since Moody came in, still staring at the door Moody walked out of. Tonks looked at him incomprehensibly, but decided not to say anything.

"If it's the same eye he got after the fight with Gellert, it does - I enchanted it myself after a rather furious duel in Szczecin, which is in Poland near the border to Germany. Beyond seeing through the most potent of invisibility cloaks and charms, it's really not as special as Alastor lets on. It is quite possible that he's subsequently had better Enchanters than me take a wand to it, though - I was certainly not downplaying any of my prodigious skill when I say that it is not my forte." Dumbledore said with a grin playing on his features.

"Now, Harry, I believe you must visit with your family - especially your mother, who as I have said does not let up about how busy you let yourself get! I shall escort the lovely Ms. Tonks to my cottage in Godric's Hollow. You'll join us soon enough?" Dumbledore grinned as Harry gave his grudging acceptance.

"I'm sure I'll be able to find the place easily enough. Wizarding homes tend to stick out just like wizards." Harry responded with a wry look to Tonks' bubblegum pink hair.

Fawkes flew over to his master's shoulder as though he knew he was needed. Dumbledore graciously offered his arm to the young witch beside him and, as soon as she took it, they disappeared in a swirling ball of red and gold flame and the echoes of phoenix song.

Harry gathered his own cloak with a casual spell and turned back to the Minister.

"Riddle - looking at the magic being thrown about in that duel, I know that I have absolutely no chance against a wizard of your or Voldemort's caliber in a fair fight. Or Dumbledore's, for that matter. So clearly there's no way I'll make it fair." Harry promised, looking intently at the 'most powerful wizard in the world'.

"Whenever you think you can trust us with how you knew who this Voldemort was, I'm sure we could use every advantage," Harry finished. Riddle considered him for a moment.

"You are an incredibly observant man, Harry." He said.

"I had a few interesting school years." Harry said with a grin. "Maybe we can trade stories some time. You know, inter-generational prodigy information exchange." At this, Riddle actually chuckled aloud.

"Perhaps we should, at that." Riddle nodded. "Go see your parents, Harry. I should be out of St. Mungo's the day after tomorrow - I would appreciate it if you and Tonks could coordinate a few details with Robards before that. I have a feeling Professor Dumbledore's many other commitments may not allow him to dedicate the time to paperwork, but it must be done." Riddle motioned to the seven scrolls that had appeared on his desk during the course of their meeting with some distaste.

"I heard you've got a fresh start on filing cabinet space, at least." Harry said before heading out the door into the real hallways of St. Mungo's. He didn't see Riddle grimace, but he expected the other man did.

"Merlin, Lily, stop fussing." James said exasperatedly. "If I need to slip you another Calming Draught, I'll do it."

"Well Sirius doesn't have anyone to fuss over him, James." She said with a tolerant smile at her husband. Sirius was, of course, basking in the mothering attention of his best mate's wife. She turned to him and said with a rub of his shoulder, "Now you know that if you think of anything else you need, we'll be happy to get it."

"I think this is everything I can think of for now," Sirius said after a moment of pondering. Harry rolled his eyes; he hadn't been in the room for five minutes, but Sirius had apparently tasked his parents with buying something for him from every store in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. His hospital room looked like a circus. Peter was juggling a few of the items that they had no idea where to put, while Remus was curiously examining the organ-holding mannequin. Sirius had somehow spelled a Dictation Quill into tattooing lewd drawings onto it.

"It's pretty impressive work, isn't it Remus?" Harry said to the most scholarly of the Marauders. "It's too bad the whole thing's transfiguration and Switching Spells, or I'd find a way to make them myself and Fred and George could find a market for it." Harry said.

"Organnequins? Yes, they're impressive partial human transfiguration work. I've heard the Minister had a hand in their development back when he was fresh out of Hogwarts. Working with Nicholas Flamel." Remus said. Harry's dad jumped in somewhat excitedly.

"Yep. They only did the proof of concept that inanimate objects could take on partial human transfigurations just as they could partial animal transfigurations, of course. Published in the very front of Transfiguration Today; that was the Minister's first time on the cover. I still have a framed copy signed in my study at home, Harry." Harry remembered the picture on the framed magazine, now that his father mentioned it. The Minister was younger than Harry was, and they even looked something alike - his vibrant blue eyes above a proud smile that Harry so commonly wore when his latest enchantment was debuted.

"James is probably one of the few wizards who can do inanimate to human partial transfigurations." Remus added, "I remember having trouble turning my eyebrows blonde, in my sixth year. Of course, Professor McGonagall was shocked when Peter got an O on his O.W.L. and breezed right through human transfigurations. Do you remember when she gave us detention for an hour and a half just to check us for Polyjuice Potion? And Sirius kept trying to get a drink of water just to spite her." The assembled pranksters laughed appreciatively at the reminder of their school days.

"Please," Harry said somewhat haughtily. "You guys couldn't brew Polyjuice if you tried. And mum didn't like you enough back then. Unlike some brilliant Potters, who brewed it in second year." Harry finished with a slight drawl.

"Oh like you had anything to do with it," Peter interjected. "Hermione brewed the whole thing, you just drank it." At the forcible reminder of Hermione and her current situation - which only Sirius and Harry knew about, of course - Harry's good mood instantly evaporated. He forced a quick smirk.

"Right. Well, she always was a smart one." He said lamely, drawing a stare from his father. Sirius looked intentionally away.

"So the Ministry burned down! Moony, you hire yourself out as cheap physical labor, right? Are you going to work on decursing the Atrium and moving the debris?" Sirius asked, changing the subject quickly. Remus quirked his eyebrow oddly at his bedridden friend.

"Oh, that would be a perfect job for you, Remus! You do have some experience with curses, after all." Lily pointed out, saying, "Dumbledore never would have hired you to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts if you didn't."

"Well, honestly I think he's about run out of candidates, Lily," Peter said. "He asked me, two years ago, and only took back the offer when I told him I can't even nonverbally cast a Disarming Charm any more," Peter said with a helpless shrug. "Not that Remus wasn't good, of course." He added lamely, realizing his point ran counter to hers.

"The Minister's just down the hall. Remus, come on and we'll get you set up to move heavy objects with a single wand-swish. Sirius, don't go wandering into stray curses - I'm sure we'll see each other soon. And don't try to give your Organnequin boobs. I know you've thought about it." Sirius nodded sagely at Harry's advice. "Mum, I'm sure I'll see you around Christmas." Lily raised a frustrated eyebrow at her absentee son before hugging him.

"See you, dad." Harry said with a grin at his father, who winked and patted him on the back. "Uncle Pete."

Harry took his leave with Remus and briskly walked back down the hall to the Minister's lavish room, only to find it quite securely locked.

"Hmm." Harry pondered, waving his head back and forth, closing his eyes as he felt the magic on the door. Remus couldn't help but smile as he watched his friend's son.

"I must say, Harry - you certainly took the 'eccentric wizard' bit to heart." He commented lightly.

"I spent too much time with Dumbledore my last few years at Hogwarts. Aha!" Harry said with a flourish of his wand. He waved it to the right, waved it to the left, then jiggled it.

The door squealched open, slamming against the wall; Harry smiled happily at his success while Remus just looked embarrassed and nervous as he realized they just broke into the protected room of the Minister of Magic, uninvited.

Minister Riddle was holding a Flooghter, and looked to be in rather intense conversation, when he looked up, very surprised at the noise, and saw his unexpected guests.

His lips thinned as they tightened, and he ended his call with.

"Yes, that's fine - set up the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes in the Dublin warehouse for now. I have guests, I'll call you back in a few minutes." Riddle said, snapping the Flooghter shut.

"Harry," Riddle said without much warmth. "I believed the charms on that door to be rather secure."

"Oh, they were - I had to expand the door frame to open it. Minister, this is my friend Remus Lupin; I'd like for him to be part of the Ministry cleanup team. He's well qualified and looking for work. Sound good? Easy enough. Great, I'm glad we're all in agreement, then." Harry said with only somewhat false bravado and good cheer.

"Lupin the werewolf - clever name. I'm sorry, Harry, but the Ministry cleanup team is all licensed Curse-Breakers. Unless your friend happens to be one, I can't just hire him on." Riddle said, hardly looking at Lupin.

"And here I thought Latin was a dead language!" Harry grinned, but his voice took a serious tone. "Come on, Minister - Remus knows more about curses than most of the blokes who'll be down there. He taught most of the blokes who'll be down there when he was at Hogwarts - he even taught me a trick or two."

The Minister sighed. "Fine, Harry. Remus, you'll have to take the wage of an Apprentice Curse-Breaker since those are the credentials you have. If you're willing to accept that, then I'll write the memo and you can report there tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Minister. I appreciate the opportunity," Remus said with an honest smile of gratitude.

"And Harry, lock my door so I won't be interrupted, for Merlin's sake. I'm only trying to set up an entirely new series of government buildings and reorganize the Ministry in a way that can't be destroyed in a single night." Riddle said in a single breath, clearly frustrated at the enormity of the task - at least a dozen new scrolls of parchment had shown up on his desk since Harry and Remus had arrived.

Godric's Hollow had a well-deserved reputation for quirkiness.

Harry arrived with the gust of wind associated with all Portkeys, his robes rustling gently in the breeze; no one noticed due to his Notice-Me-Not Charm, but from his surroundings, he wasn't sure if it would have been necessary.

He knew Hogsmeade was the only entirely magical village in all of the United Kingdom, but Godric's Hollow was something else entirely - it was ten times the size of Hogsmeade, and nearly one quarter the population was "clued-in" in some capacity. Squibs, wizards, hags, and dwarfs - Muggles called them "little people" and told their children not to point at their disability - all roamed the streets openly in the quirkiest village Harry had ever heard of.

Naturally, this was where Dumbledore had grown up. It was perhaps the only place in England with wizards as odd as he was.

As Harry roamed the street, he saw some shops that were hidden from the Muggles entirely - Barnaby's Quidditch Supply - while others like the greengrocer he wandered in merely had a back shelf that had plants like North African Bloodvine for sale, which the Muggles seemed to avoid. Every shop Harry wandered into accepted both pounds and sickles, and the wizards strode about in their everyday casual robes and tall hats without paying any mind to the smirks and odd stares that the Muggles gave them as they passed. It seemed that the older Muggles rarely even seemed to notice the outlandish outfits of their neighbors in this most curious village - it was merely the state of things here in Godric's Hollow.

Harry made his way through the village proper, down the cobblestone streets to the oldest section of the outskirts of town. Here, he found the address Dumbledore had told him, where his family's cottage was.

It was cozy, most of it a single story with a few rooms on a second story - there was smoke coming from the chimney, so Harry could tell that Dumbledore and Tonks had made it there already. The stone of the house was grey and red, and moss had creeped onto part of it; though the grass stayed well tended, likely due to the pair of goats that bleated at his appearance. A thin, iron-wrought gate blocked the path of brick pavers that led up to the sturdy wooden door, so Harry reached out a hand to open the gate when he fought back a simultaneous shiver and he feeling of a static shock on the hand he'd extended.

Dumbledore had put up some protections on the little cottage, then. This was considerably more than Unplottable. Harry massaged his right hand, which was still numb from the shock, and concentrated once more on the overwhelming feeling of the magical protections, letting them wash over him.

They were familiar, in a way; nearly identical to the ancient protections of Hogwarts Castle. Those were considered impenetrable to anyone who wasn't a student, professor, or invited guest. Harry marveled that Dumbledore was able to replicate them so quickly at the cottage, but then the Headmaster had more than passing familiarity.

"Praeco Patronum," Harry said, a brilliant Hippogriff erupting from his wand. "Tell Albus Dumbledore: 'I am outside your cottage and don't fancy getting obliterated by whatever spells you've put around the cottage.'" The Hippogriff, with a flap of its ethereal silver wings, turned around in the sky before coalescing into a ball of energy and zooming faster than the eye could see into the cottage.

Harry amused himself for a few moments by feeling out the energy of the cottage's protections. Most of them were familiar, but a few of them zapped him each time he came close - brilliantly designed!

Dumbledore must have seen this as he strolled down the walkway with a smile on his face.

"Ah, Harry! I was hoping you'd have a chance to dabble with the spells - figure them out at all?" Dumbledore said before sweeping his wand first at the cottage and then encircling Harry in a swirl of magic that started at his feet and worked its way up his body in a multi-colored helix. He felt it tingle identically to the gate that he'd just reached out to. He opened the gate, and this time there was no shock of the protective enchantments recognizing him as an intruder, but only a slight tingling as he walked passed them, just as they did every time he passed them at Hogwarts.

"I know eleven of the sixteen. The rest still elude me," Harry admitted, somewhat annoyed. Dumbledore grinned.

"You only knew six when you graduated from Hogwarts - excellent progress." They walked together up the path towards the sleepy cottage. Dumbledore opened the door, which stuck slightly in its frame, and beckoned Harry inside, before ducking his head and entering himself.

The cottage wasn't quite the illustrious hideout of three wizard prodigies that Harry had imagined.

"Thank Merlin you're here, Harry." Tonks said, looking like she needed to be rescued - her hair immediately turned from a drab grey imitation of Dumbledore's coloration to a more joyous pink tone. "The Professor here was just telling me how perfect this place is."

It was cramped, the ceilings so low they forced Albus to remove his pointed hat. There was a pot-bellied stove in the main room - soot around the pipe indicating a poor seal - and what sparse furniture dotted each of the rooms Harry looked into was covered in white sheets; everything was coated in a thick layer of dust, except for what Tonks and Dumbledore had disturbed moments before.

The kitchen was likewise ancient, consisting of a non-magical icebox and stove that pre-dated the turn of the 19th century, if Harry wasn't wrong.

"Wow," was all Harry managed to say when he finished surveying the cottage. "This is homey."

"I daresay it could use a touch of...cleaning." Dumbledore offered, nodding his head thoughtfully. "There are two bedrooms!" He added brightly.

Harry inspected them; they were likewise cramped enough to give him claustrophobia. There was no room to navigate, with a bed, dresser, and armoire inside the room.

"This all seemed a bit more spacious when I was ten," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. Harry tried not to look dubious.

"I unfortunately have some business with the International Confederation of Wizards to attend. I have placed you on the invite list for the main meeting, but as the Supreme Mugwump, I'm afraid I have some politicking to do, in light of Britain's recent need for International assistance." Dumbledore said. "Please do make yourselves at home!"

Harry took one more glance at everything before inquiring, "How attached are you to these antiques, Professor?" He gestured to the appliances in the kitchen, and then to the potbelly stove.

"Neither I nor my brother Abe have very fond memories of this place, Harry. Dispose of them as you wish - I look forward to your remodeling job!" Dumbledore replied, at first with a bit of a sad tone and then regaining his usual mirthful smile.

Dumbledore bid his former students farewell, then left them alone with a subtle 'pop!' of Apparition.

"Miss Tonks," Harry said, turning to her immediately with a wry grin. "How is your Transfiguration these days?" He brandished his wand. "Dobby! I've got some cleaning to do!"

A house-elf in stockings that went far too high up his legs - all the way inside his pillowcase - appeared suddenly. He looked around at the filthy surroundings with disgust, abject horror, disbelief, and then twisted joy.

"Master Harry Potter, sir, called Dobby to clean all of this!" Dobby said, wringing his hands.

"Oh, that's right Dobby. And I'll be doing a whole lot of construction on this place too - the kitchen will be expanded, I'll be adding new rooms, every room is going to be bigger, the ceilings are all getting raised to be at least fifteen feet high. It's going to be a big job. First is this dust though." Harry had barely spoken the words when Dobby smacked his hands together, and seemed to summon a myriad of dust devils - they zoomed around every surface of each room in about fifteen seconds, then coalesced and spat out the front door of the little cottage. Dobby whipped his finger at the door, cleaning off the residue.

"Much better, Dobby, thanks." Harry said neatly. "Now, let's get started!"

"I didn't know the Potters had any house-elves, Harry." Tonks said; she'd been on enough jobs undercover, surrounded by opulence that she wasn't terribly impressed. Though Dobby's magic was better than any she'd seen.

Harry was busy expanding the living room to a more "reasonable" size, by his own standards, thrusting his wand at the walls, seemingly at random, until he found proportions that he liked. "Strictly speaking I stole him from the Malfoys when I was twelve." Tonks snorted in a very unladylike manner. "I never told my parents the specifics - they figured out I had him after a few years, but he's such a great elf that it's not like they were going to force me to give him away. Mum did make me keep him at Hogwarts with the other elves there, during the school year, though. She said Dad would get into bad habits." Harry said with a wink at Tonks.

Then Harry raised the entire ceiling of the cottage with an exceptionally well-cast Undetectable Extension Charm. "Finally, it feels like I can breathe in here! I never thought I had claustrophobia, but geez this place is tiny - can you imagine growing up in such a small room like this? I don't know how Dumbledore managed." Harry said, before moving on to tackle the kitchen's basic enhancements.

"I'll leave the decorations up to you, Tonks; I hire people to do my interior decorating at WWW, I have no idea how to match color schemes." Harry said with a grin.

"You do know I turn my hair pink and purple?" She muttered to his backside. Deciding the color schemes wouldn't much matter, she matched them with her favorite hair colors.

For the next hour, piping snaked around the house as appliances were added, the small cottage attractively and gradually grew into a two-story stone home as Harry added bedrooms in a layout that, while at first seemed haphazard, oddly made sense by the time he was finished. The fact that each bedroom was an absurdly-sized master suite with a view of the Mediterranean, a deck overlooking the Black Forest, and a jacuzzi heated by various Japanese natural hot springs was a testament to his mastery of the charms he'd discovered on the Minister's room in St. Mungo's.

"Harry, these rooms are ridiculous, but don't you think Dumbledore might want a view of Somerset? I mean, he did grow up here..." Tonks began after she got over her amazement.

Harry looked at her as though she were crazy. "Are you kidding? Japanese hot springs! Mediterranean beaches! A walkout deck fifty feet above the Black Forest! This place is awesome! I mean, I need to re-enchant my own apartment after learning that charm, it's so great. I actually need to take more vacations to visit cooler places just so I can link the scenery to my apartment, I think." Harry considered, reminding himself to take an extended trip to the Alps and Sweden, and possibly accept the visiting lecturer position at Durmstrang that he'd been offered several years in a row.

"I even gave your bidet two settings, Tonks," Harry grinned lecherously.

"I should curse you but," she paused, then sighed. "It will just bounce off your robes anyway. Plus I kind of want to try it out." She admitted with a wink, and they both laughed.

A/N: That was the longest one, I believe! On to the next…