Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
Question Concerning:
Barty Crouch Jr.: He was never convicted or discovered to be a Death Eater, and as for Crouch Sr. position as Minister of Magic, his wife became ill, and he stepped down to be with her.
Amount I will write: I plan to write to the point of where an ending has come, whether that will be through all seven books…probably not. Due to certain changes, things are clearly not going to happen as they had in the canon.
- - - Book 2 – Part 6: Rest and Action
Harry, Neville, and Draco went down a little before dinner, hoping that they would be told about what was happening at the Burrow, for clearly something was.
Harry was about to be bold and ask Moody, but before he could approach him, the fireplace flared, quickly spilling out over a half a dozen red heads, closely followed by a wary Dumbledore.
Molly looked distressed, Arthur looked dazed, Ron was angry, the twins were confused, Ginny was lost, and Percy…Percy was attempting to look collected but was failing miserably.
"Albus, shall I tell the house elves to get more rooms ready?" Augusta asked, already tending to Molly and sitting her on the couch.
"Yes, I believe that would be wise. It has been a trying day," he said, before brushing past Arthur and going to Harry. "Harry," he said, turning Harry towards the hall and leading him out, the others in the room wisely not questioning the old wizard now.
"Yes sir?" he asked, unable to stop from looking back at his friends who had quickly gathered together, the twins joining them as well. The five of them gave him reassuring nods as Dumbledore guided him out.
Dumbledore took him to an empty guestroom and shut the door.
"What's happened sir? Did you get Wormtail?" Harry asked the moment after Dumbledore had warded the room.
Dumbledore did a good job hiding his surprise at Harry's concluding ability and answered solemnly.
"Wormtail is dead. His spell backfired on my shield. I believe he was trying to do what he had over ten years ago. If I had not put up my shield, I fear young Ronald Weasley and his mother would not be here."
"How did he get a wand?" Harry asked, stunned.
"He took Mrs. Weasley's soon after I got there. Apparently he somehow knew I was onto him," he said, sitting down on the corner of the bed in front of Harry.
"Why did you take me in here? Is this supposed to be a secret?" Harry asked.
"No, the others are being told this right now. I took you in here to tell you about someone, two someones actually. I mentioned them this morning," he answered.
"My father's true friends?" Harry asked.
"Yes. I am currently working on getting Sirius Black, I fear a terrible mistake has been made. As for Remus Lupin, you can speak with him after we are through here."
"Lupin?"
Dumbledore nodded then let a few seconds of silence pass, both of them now sitting-Harry on the corner of the bed, and Dumbledore on the chair across from him.
"Harry, I didn't have time to speak with you about what had happened at Privet Drive, could you tell me what you remember?"
"Everything happened so fast," he whispered, pausing to recall everything. Dumbledore waited patiently.
"I looked out the window and saw dark forms coming. I knew they were bad, so I told Draco and Dobby and to use the energy seeds from Neville. Then I ran down to the Dursley's and told them to get to my room because they were coming. Aunt Petunia told them to listen to me… Well, then they started banging on the doors and their chanting got louder and the house was shaking really bad then. The Dursley's ran up the stairs while I slowed them down."
"You used the table, didn't you? To block the back kitchen door?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling. Harry nodded.
"Well, I ran up the stairs, but before I could get to the hall, the front door was blasted off. I think I got one of them before I used protego and a curse hit it, knocking me down into the hall. My door was open so I ordered Dobby to seal the door. He did. Then the Death Eater came and some more spells were exchanged, but then another came from behind me, probably through a window. My wand flew out of my hands, and then she was about to kadavra me, when..."
"What? What happened, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, seeing Harry wasn't continuing.
"The house…it went all… weird…it felt hot, but good. It rushed over and into me, and then I just threw out my hands and the…the next thing I knew they were on either side of the hall and the wand was in my hand and then, bang, I'm in my room."
"Draco said you disapparated into the room…could have been accidental magic, there was definitely good reason for it," Dumbledore said absently, trying to figure out what had happened with the Ward and Beacon.
Had they somehow bonded for those few seconds, serving their purpose to the very end? Protecting? Dumbledore wondered.
"Harry, how did you make that Golden Ward?" Dumbledore asked, realizing he still had half the puzzle to figure out.
"I don't know…I just, did it," he muttered. "A memory…she…" He stopped, his voice wavering slightly, not wanting to have to talk or think about the woman he saw tortured and killed by Voldemort.
"You don't need to continue, Harry…" he said quietly, silently assuming the 'she' was Lily.
"Love is a powerful thing. It can protect even after we are gone, but then, one must wonder if one is truly gone, if their love is still bound to us," he said.
Harry looked up, confused, not understanding what that had to do with the woman in his memories. He didn't know her, and she definitely didn't know him. What was Dumbledore talking about?
"Alright Harry, I think the others'll be wondering where we are soon. If you remember anything else, or want to talk about anything, you can always come to me, alright?" he asked, meeting Harry's bright green eyes with his blue ones.
"Yes sir," he said, glad the discussion was over.
Dumbledore inwardly sighed, wishing he could, on a clear conscience, know what Harry was thinking after seeing his confused look; but he couldn't, or rather wouldn't. If he wanted trust, real trust, he would have to get it the old fashioned way: Harry would have to tell him—he only hoped that in good time he would.
He must be refering to a memory of something from that night…perhaps a golden shield had formed, and Lily had been the source? Dumbledore wondered, trying to reason why what he had said would have caused such obvious confusion from Harry.
Am I missing something? he wondered, watching as Harry exited the room, clearly in as much thought as himself.
- - -
Night came quickly to those in the Longbottom Mansion, the gloom and sadness that would be awaiting them the following day looming over them. Harry didn't have the opportunity to talk with Lupin, but vowed he would soon, probably some time after the funeral.
Hermione had flooed over late that night with the permission from her parents to attend the funeral with them the next day, but because the next day would be trying and busy, they all settled in for the night rather early.
She was staying in a room with Ginny. Neville, Draco, and Harry were sharing a room, and Ron and the twins were in another. Percy was graced with having the smallest guestroom.
They were all thankful (well, the twins wouldn't have minded sharing a room with him, but Percy would have).
- - -
Dumbledore fashioned portkeys for them all to use the following day, and in groups of five, they were all transported to where the service was being held.
The service went.
The Minister of Magic was present, as were many of the distinguished members of society, and to the well hidden horror of Harry, Draco, and Dobby, so was Crouch Jr.. He was beside the Minister, portraying the grieving coworker and friend of the Malfoy's disgustingly well.
Draco felt Snape's hand tighten on his shoulder as Crouch Jr. came forward and gave Draco his condolences.
Draco obviously didn't buy it, and neither did the others, even Hermione and Ron who did not know the whole story with what had happened. It was also clear, to at least Draco, that Snape apparently didn't like Crouch Jr. either.
Draco was really tempted to curse the man right there, who cared if Unforgivables were illegal? He barely managed to beat down that temptation as the murderer walked away.
Crabbe and Goyle were also there, along with their uppity families, though, both Vince and Greg gave subtle nods to Draco and the others which were just as secretly returned to them.
Vince and Grag were playing parts, and the others knew how important this was. If their enemies were to learn the truth, they might end up like so many others who crossed those with Voldemort.
A few people said some words before the caskets were lowered and covered with dirt, magiced to settle gently over them before the funeral ended.
The Weasley's took their leave, going back to the Longbottom Mansion to prepare a late lunch for everyone as most of the others also left.
All who were left was Harry, Dumbledore, Snape, and Draco.
Harry and Draco didn't know why, but they were glad they were the only ones there now. Before, it had felt forced, like the people who were there were only there because they had to be, or felt obligated; and though the Weasley's, the Longbottoms, Kingsley, and even Moody and Lupin were there genuinely to provide support and to express their humble grievances, it was nice to have the cemetery to themselves.
Harry was a little surprised Draco had covertly asked him to stay, and was even more surprised when Dumbledore and Snape hadn't asked Harry to join Neville or Hermione back to the Mansion, but let him be.
Draco and Harry stood silently by one another for some time as the wind brushed against them, their eyes on the grand, black marble, Malfoy family tombstone.
Snape stepped behind Draco and placed his hands on his shoulders.
They were like that for a few minutes more before Harry felt Dumbledore's hand come to rest on his own shoulder.
"Come with me, Harry," he whispered.
Harry turned, finding a very solemn looking Dumbledore before going with him.
Harry looked back to Draco and Snape. They were still standing there, no doubt lost in their own thoughts.
Dumbledore continued to lead Harry away, and only when they were out of sight and earshot, did Dumbledore stop and face him.
"Sir?" Harry asked, a little nervous.
Dumbledore had no twinkle, and actually looked troubled and sad.
Harry understood him looking sad, but the troubled part was what was causing him concern.
Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a carved wooden object.
"This is a portkey Harry," he said.
"Where are we going?" Harry asked.
"Somewhere I should have taken you soon after you reentered and Wizarding World," he said softly.
Harry stayed silent.
Where should he have been taken, and why?
"Forgive me Harry, I have no real excuses for not taking you sooner. I suppose I felt it would be better to wait, that it would spare you pain in some way, but I've realized I was doing the opposite."
"I don't understand, sir," Harry said, growing beyond concerned, now becoming a little scared, if he was honest with himself.
What could cause such regret? What had Dumbledore done to ask for such forgiveness from him?
"Harry, you can say no, but I need an answer."
"An answer?" Harry asked, looking up into the man's old face.
"Harry, do you wish me to take you to visit your parents' graves?"
Harry blinked.
Well, he hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been that.
Harry looked down.
Did he want to? Did he want to see the grave of his parents? Maybe say something to them, like Draco was probably doing now?
Yes, he did.
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice, as he looked up to Dumbledore's face once more.
"Right now?" Dumbledore asked, his voice a thread away from breaking, though barely hidden from Harry.
Harry firmly nodded, his eyes revealing to Albus that he meant it.
"Here," Dumbledore said, holding out the portkey for him to touch.
Harry obliged, though a little hesitantly, and took hold of the portkey with Dumbledore.
He felt the pull, and then, soon after, he felt them land.
He looked around, suddenly feeling a little isolated and nervous.
"Where are we?" Harry asked.
"The Cemetery of Godric's Hallow," he replied softly. "This way," he said, slowly leading them through the old cemetery.
Dumbledore stopped, before him a large white headstone, Lily and James Potter's names on it with their dates of birth and death upon it.
The statement: "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death" etched below.
Harry stepped beside Dumbledore before taking a few steps closer, stopping just inches from the edge of the area where they were buried.
Harry felt himself fill up with so many emotions he wasn't even able to attempt to hold back a sob as he slowly fell to his knees… and wept.
Weeping for what he would never have. Grieving for what had been stolen from him and what he couldn't remember — loving parents.
His hands tightened over the ground that covered his parents, gripping the lush grass tightly within his fists.
He had always felt the loss of his parents, but seeing their graves…it made it so much more real…
Dumbledore remained silent, hoping he had made the right choice in bringing Harry there.
Harry tried and failed to get his breathing under control as he felt a tightness in his chest beginning to consume him. He felt his grief and sadness, but also felt a separate portion within himself, but not of him, being engulfed in the same feelings.
"Harry?" Dumbledore whispered, moving forward to kneel beside him.
The graveyard had gone unbelievably silent; the wind was nonexistent and the leaves were still.
Dumbledore prepared himself for a surge of accidental magic, but none came, though he could practically feel pure magic rolling off of Harry's frame.
Harry was vaguely aware of Dumbledore beside him as he tried to collect himself.
Turning inward, in an attempt to calm himself by means of occlumency, something he could not explain or truly fathom, took place.
He heard Snape's voice in the corner of his mind, somewhere among the thick sorrow not his own, but so similar.
"Mourn as long as you need, we will not leave until you are ready. Once we go, let yourself be relieved of your grief, if nothing else, so that they cannot use it against you, but instead, so you can use it against them," Snape said quietly.
He didn't know how, nor did he care, but he knew, at that moment, Snape had told Draco that, and somehow, it had branched to him.
For an amount of time he didn't pay mind to, he thought on those words, and did as they suggested.
His parents were gone, and nothing could bring them back, but they had left something behind that could never be taken away.
Hope.
They had done that which few others had; they had thwarted the Dark Lord, and stopped him from executing his plans.
Because of this, it meant Harry could too, and could lead others to do the same.
There was hope.
And that was enough to push Harry beyond the despair that had threatened to devour him, reminding him of the decision he had made at the end of last term: he would continue where his parents had left off, he would continue to defy Voldemort, continue the fight, and what his parents had been unable to finish, he would.
With the Custosae de Lux, he would win the war.
Exhaling slowly, he focused on the tombstone before him, the edge of his mind calming and focusing as well.
Wiping his eyes clear of tears, and brushing them off his cheeks, he stood up.
Turning to a now standing and bewildered Dumbledore and met his eyes.
"I'm ready to go back." Harry paused before continuing. "Thank you for bringing me here."
Dumbledore nodded, deciding it best not to question or comment on the change he noted in Harry's eyes: a reinforced sense of resolve, defiance, purpose, and…hope?
- - -
The Next Day
Hermione and Ginny got ready quickly the morning after the funeral and were talking about the upcoming classes at Hogwarts when someone, or rather two someones, knocked on the door.
The Weasley's were going to stay at the Mansion until the repairs on the Burrow could be completed. Wormtail had demolished the backside of the house, and had done some serious damage to the already questionable looking structure. They would probably, or at least the Weasley children, stay until school started.
Neville and Harry were thrilled, and Draco was happy as well, since all he would have to do later, when he moved to Snape's place, would be to ask Snape if he could visit.
"Come in," Ginny said, pretty sure who would be on the other side.
The twins entered.
"Hermione, Ron and the others want to talk with you-"
"They're in Neville's room," Fred said, completing George's statement.
"Oh, alright. Ginny, I'll be right back to tell you about Professor Snape's class," she said, having been giving Ginny a crash course in what to expect for her first year. She got up, but not without a thin locked journal.
"Alright. Is it okay if I look over some of your old notes?" she asked, wanting to get a head start in her classes, since all of her brothers seemed to be doing pretty well in school, she didn't want to be the odd one out.
"Of course," Hermione said with a smile, happy to have found someone as enthusiastic as herself, even if it was just going to be for a little while. She knew Ginny probably wouldn't continue this hardcore 'wanting to learn' thing.
Hermione turned and followed the twins out and to Neville's room where the twins graciously stood on either side of the door and bowed humbly.
"We thank you for—"
"Allowing us—"
"To escort you—"
"Madam," they said, Fred opening the door.
"May you and your companions' plans—"
"Succeed in whatever you wish."
Caught a little off guard, she was at first nervous that they had been told. She stopped at the door.
Wiping away a fake tear, Fred sniffled (George following suit). Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Ronniekins and his friends… pranking already…" Fred said, heaving a proud sigh.
"We wish you luck. The room is yours."
Holding in her confusion, she shuffled forward, George closing the door behind her.
Harry, Draco, Neville, and Ron held in their giggles. Dobby, between Harry and Draco, looked confused.
"It was the only thing we could think of, Hermione," Harry said.
"You convinced the twins we're planning a prank?" Hermione asked.
"It worked, didn't it?" Draco asked.
Hermione shook her head but joined in their circle.
"Dobby, privacy ward please," Draco said.
Dobby snapped his fingers with a smile.
"Done, Master."
Hermione held her tongue at that, the only thing keeping her from saying something was the fact Dobby was happy, and that things were asked of him, not cruelly ordered.
"Dobby, you are hereby forbidden to speak of anything you are about to hear to any outside members without either my, or Harry's consent. What we are doing here is very secret, we are a group secretly fighting against You-Kn—I mean, Voldemort. Do you understand?" Draco asked.
Dobby, having clutched his ears at the Dark Lord's name, nodded.
"Dobby understands sir, Dobby will keep all secrets."
"Good," Draco said, and then, with a nod to Harry, they all settled.
"Well, I think we can all see our activities are going to need to start sooner than we had thought," Harry started. "I suppose this is the first real meeting to determine the actions of the Custosae de Lux against Voldemort."
They all nodded, feeling themselves falling into a mode of seriousness not thought possible for children their age.
"Um…ideas?" Harry asked, a little unsure of how to begin.
"I have some ideas of what we should do once we get at school, and I've also been thinking… if we are going to actually do something of importance, we're going to need to expand our resources…" Hermione said, opening her journal.
"We also need to find a place to meet at Hogwarts," Ron said.
"Uh, sirs, Dobby could help," Dobby said, a little unsure if he should interrupt.
"You could find a place for us to hold our meetings in secret?" Neville asked.
"Yes sirs, Dobby has heard that house elves work there, Dobby can ask them."
"Alright, well that's taken care of, thanks Dobby," Harry said causing Dobby to bow humbly.
They all paused, noticing that Harry was staring at his hands.
"Um, I have something you all should know. I've already told Neville and Draco about it a little, and I'll have to tell Vince and Greg about it when we find a place at Hogwarts, but it can't wait until then. We need to start doing something about this now," Harry said.
Ron and Hermione glanced at Neville and Draco for a moment, hoping they would give them some clue about what Harry was talking about it, before looking back to Harry.
Draco interrupted.
"Before you tell them, Harry," he said, looking at Ron and Hermione. "Don't freak out, this is actually a good thing."
"A very good thing," Neville added.
"Yeah, so just listen to what he has to say, okay?" Draco said.
They quickly nodded, now even more curious and concerned as to what this was about as Draco looked to Harry, as if giving him permission to talk.
"Okay, what?" Ron asked, slightly impatiently.
"You know those nightmares I was having last term?" Harry asked.
Ron nodded, while Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise and worry.
"Nightmares?" she asked, this being the first time she had heard about them.
Draco rose a hand and silenced her.
"Those were about…about that night, right?" Ron asked.
"Sometimes…" Harry muttered.
"Harry, just tell them," Draco stated.
"I have Voldemort's memories," Harry blurted out with a heavy sigh and the prompting of Draco.
Hermione gasped, Ron lost several shades of pigment.
"And—and how is that good?" Hermione choked out.
"I know why he didn't die when he should have," Harry stated; now that the truth was out, he felt more confident.
Their eyes all snapped to his, even Draco and Neville, not having been told this piece of information yet.
"He broke up his soul into pieces, placing them in objects and creating them into things called Horcruxes," he said.
"Horcruxes?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, and because of them, his soul is bound to this existence, he can't die-die."
"Then how do we defeat him?" Ron asked.
"We find these things and destroy them. Because of the memories, I know where they all are, or at least where he had last placed them. I also know that bashing them with a simple bat won't work. Only something powerful, like a magic sword or something, can destroy it," Harry said.
"So, where are they? How many of them are there?" Neville asked.
"One is at Hogwarts, hidden in this really special room that hides things—it's a crown that belonged to Ravenclaw. At first I thought Voldemort's pet snake was one; but after thinking about the memories, he didn't have an opportunity to make it one, he was just planning to. Well, another is a cup, it belonged to Hufflepuff, it's in…" he thought about Neville for a second. "In a Death Eater's vault at Gringott's. A ring in some shack. A locket…" Harry shivered. "It's in a cave…guarded by curses and traps and scary things. And…the other is a diary. Tom Marvolo Riddle's diary. That's Voldemort's real name, and the people who," Harry heaved a sigh, "attacked Draco and his parents…now have it. That's why they went to the Malfoy's, to get the Diary."
"How do you know that, Potter?" Draco asked.
"Uh, Dobby showed me. Did this weird memory sharing thingy," Harry said with a shrug.
Dobby appeared to lose a few inches just then, remembering he had caused Harry to hit his head on the floor soon after doing that.
"Why would they want it?" Ron asked.
"It holds Voldemort's 16 year old self in it. Anyone could actually talk to him by writing on the blank pages. Don't ask me how I know, I just do," Harry answered.
"Alright. Hmm, maybe they're using it to get orders from Voldemort, but I don't know why they would want a 16 year old telling them what to do," Draco said.
"They would if it was a 16 year old Voldemort," Neville added.
"No…there's got to be more to this than what we're seeing," Hermione said. "Harry, can these things be used to bring Voldemort back? I mean, regenerate him or something?" she asked.
Harry paused, thinking, actually welcoming the information he was able to gather from garbled 'memory intel' as he dubbed it, but then, what he gathered made him wish it wasn't so.
"Harry?" Neville asked, Harry in a slight daze.
Harry shook his head.
"Well, I think I know why they wanted it. Hermione's right. The only thing I don't get is why they're going to try this now, I mean, why not soon after he was ripped from his body?" Harry asked.
"Well, we can't do anything about it now," Draco said. "Let's discuss things to do that we have more control over," he suggested.
Hermione chose that moment to plop her journal/notebook in the middle of them all.
"This is something I've been thinking about for a while, branching out our resources," she stated as they all leaned forward to see what she had written.
What they found was a web of names, arrows going every which way, some names having multiple arrows to or away from them, while others just had one. Some of the names they recognized, while others were simply positions, like: Saint Mungo Nurse or Doctor, Auror contact, Gringotts? And Wizagomot—Dumbledore???.
They also found their own names among them written in blue ink, arrows branching from names and positions in ways that were no doubt purposeful.
"Madam Bones? Snape?" Neville asked, trying to figure out what this was.
"My dad?" Ron asked, confused to say the least with the whole thing.
"Hermione, if this is what I think it is…this is brilliant!" Harry exclaimed in near silent awe.
"I have already written out the letter to Madam Bones, just waiting for your critiques and approval. I think we could send these letters out, with protection spells and what not on them so they can't be traced back to us…I've been studying a lot this summer on these kinds of things… and invite them to assist us in secret," Hermione said as she turned the page.
"Codenames?" Draco asked, seeing a list of their names, and people they had seen on the previous page, with unique words beside them.
"Flytrap? I'm Flytrap?" Neville asked.
"Well, you like plants…" Hermione muttered.
"No, it's okay, I suppose it fits," Neville replied.
"Fire Ant?" Ron asked, not looking as accepting as Neville.
"Well, you can make a different codename if you want, this was just what I could think of, okay?" Hermione huffed.
"It works," Harry said, "We'll have to change them periodically anyways."
Draco snickered. "'Long Beard' for Dumbledore?"
"That definitely works…though that might be too obvious," Harry said, entertained by it as well, before looking at Crabbe's codename only to burst out with laughter. "Sebastian?!"
Hermione shrugged with a small chuckle. "Couldn't help myself."
"What? What's wrong with that name?" Ron asked.
"It's a name of a muggle cartoon character…a character that was a crab…" she answered.
Draco choked on a laugh. "And I thought Hermit for you was funny," he said, talking to Hermione.
After collecting themselves for a moment, they looked back to the chart.
"I think I have some names to add…" Harry stated seriously.
"Me too, starting with Kingsley," Draco said, recalling how well he handled things at Little Whinging.
"I think my older brothers might like to help. Bill interacts with Gringotts a lot," Ron suggested.
"Alright," she said, handing out pens so they could write in the names they were thinking.
In less than ten minutes they had it full, and though they were unsure half the names on there would become a part of their true network (since those people would have to accept), they knew they were trustworthy and may be instrumental in assisting them later on in the fight against Voldemort.
"Voldemort has allies, well, then so will we. Let us call them, the Friends of Lux," Harry said, handing the now locked journal back to Hermione.
Harry then ended the meeting, all of them now having something more to look forward to, for they would soon participate, lead, and continue the fight.
Those who had sacrificed so much to aid in the war against Voldemort and his ideals would not have done so in vain, the Custosae would make sure of that.
- - -
A/N: Again, for those of you who review (kindly and honestly), -thanks- each of you help me improve and type faster. :)
Next Part: Enter the Custosae de Lux
