The Unbreakable Vow

by Ash Darklighter

Strange lights are seen across a deserted country lane. The wizarding world is calling him home.

28. Chapter 28

The Unbreakable Vow 28

by

Ash Darklighter

It all belongs to JK Rowling and I thank her for her inspiration – There are no galleons to be made from me or by me. This little story is my first Harry Potter fic. It is AU and of course comments are welcome. I am also grateful for all the people who have read and reviewed this story. I am quite stunned by all the positive comments.

As always my thanks to Tad and Mona for their help.

Malfoy Manor

The oak-cased grandfather clock chimed softly as Lucius Malfoy cautiously entered the darkened guest-bedchamber, his eyes seeking the sleeping figure in the imposing four-poster bed. He stiffened his spine, pushing the fear from his face. Being once more in the presence of his master filled him with fear and awe. Not to feel fear in the presence of such greatness would be foolish indeed.

His master had been returned to them once more via the unwilling sacrifice of his traitorous former colleague, Severus Snape. The Potions Master had been taken away to die and nothing more had been seen or heard of him. It was a waste of a good wizard. Severus had been a half-blood but held a talent and devotion for his craft as a Potions Master. Pity he had to be tainted by his traitorous association with the meddling fool, Albus Dumbledore. Still, Severus' sacrifice had been instrumental in the Dark Lord's rebirth – the betrayer had more than paid for his crimes.

As he moved soundlessly further into the room, the sconces on the wall burst into light. Swallowing nervously, the Malfoy patriarch approached the bed. Opening his mouth to gently rouse his supine master he found himself jerking back as a sibilant hiss came from just above his head. His master's familiar, Nagini, wound around one the bedposts, hissed lazily at him, her tongue flickering.

He bowed his blond head respectfully towards the snake. The Dark Lord would punish him if he treated his familiar with rudeness. The unsettling ability to converse with snakes in parseltongue unnerved Lucius even though his family crest contained the form of a serpent.

"My...my...Lord," he said hesitantly, hating the way his voice trembled. Malfoys should not show such fear. "My Lord..." He opened his hand and laid down several vials of potion on the bedside table. "To regain your strength fully, you must take these."

Since his rebirth, the most powerful dark wizard ever to walk the earth had been in a semi-comatose state for much of the time and had been slow to regain his strength. The blood of a Snape had not been as potent as that belonging to Harry Potter.

Voldemort opened his red eyes. "If I had wanted you to play nursemaid, Lucius, I would have summoned you," he hissed malevolently. "Leave me or be prepared to suffer the consequences."

"But my Lord," pleaded Malfoy. "Your healer...?"

"Lord Voldemort does not need a healer," snapped the Dark Lord with surprising strength. "Nor does he consume potions concocted by a traitor."

"We would never..." Lucius began.

"What is today's date?" snapped Voldemort.

"My Lord?"

"The date, Lucius. I grow weary of this – you cannot fool me."

"December the tenth," the blond aristocrat said quietly.

The dark wizard nodded slowly. He guessed that he'd been in this bed for over a month although the time since his return was hazy. For the first time since he'd reacquired a corporeal form, he felt much of his old awareness and strength return to him. What he'd discovered had not pleased him. The wizarding world was still run by Muggle-loving fools and his followers were fighting amongst themselves.

"Snape is dead," Lucius said flatly. "These potions were made by my son, Draco, my Lord," he added quickly. "He is most talented in this area and further study with a suitable master could easily match and perhaps even surpass Snape's skill. You are weak since your rebirth..."

"Silence!" ordered Voldemort. "The Dark Lord is not weak. Lord Voldemort is never weak."

Again Nagini hissed threateningly from her perch as Lucius retreated several steps backwards in his nervousness.

"I never meant to suggest..." Malfoy backed away a couple of steps and took a deep breath. "Of course, my Lord. I will leave you to rest, my Lord," he said, bowing. He left the carefully labelled potions vials on the bedside table knowing that they would be empty when he returned.

"Lucius..." The voice was threadlike.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"What of my enemies?" The dark wizard rose carefully to a seated position. This was something he was most interested to know. He'd risked using one of the darkest curses in existence, tapping into the core of his own power to weaken the boy. He was probably the only wizard alive that could have successfully cast the Magisiphonoux hex. He was the only wizard who would have dared.

And as for the recipient, the effects were not immediate but the symptoms progressed rapidly. Harry Potter would have been turned into a worthless squib. But the spell had come at a price for its caster. When the boy had attempted the Avada Kedavra - which normally wouldn't have worked as the boy lacked the intent to kill – it had, to Voldemort's horror, reduced him to a spirit without a body once more. It had taken five frustrating years before the damage had been rectified.

"We kept your return a secret, my Lord," breathed Malfoy. "Only the most trusted of the 'Inner Circle' know that you are with us once more. Your enemies have no knowledge..."

Voldemort gracefully raised a pale, skeletal wrist. "But..." he drawled.

Malfoy hesitated. "Ah..."

His master gave a sinister chuckle. "I can read you more easily than a Muggle children's book, Lucius. I can divine your thoughts whenever I want to. Now, tell me."

Malfoy turned his gaze from the escape of the bedchamber door. "Dumbledore's Order is suspicious. The disappearance of Severus will have alerted them and I suspect the old man has already had words with the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, my Lord."

"So this secrecy kept by the inner circle is a myth," sneered Voldemort, angered at the thought of Scrimgeour, an Auror with a fanatical hatred of the Death Eaters, as the Minister for Magic. At least Cornelius Fudge had been easy to control.

"Snape was a spy for Dumbledore. When he failed to contact the Order they would have suspected his discovery. None of us would betray you..." Lucius began unctuously.

"Yet you did. All of you betrayed me when you left me as a disembodied spirit for five years." The Dark Lord waved his hand dismissively. "The point is moot. What of Potter? Surely he would have felt my return?" How much did Malfoy know about Potter's magic-less fate, he wondered? "I cannot yet sense him the way I could before. I cannot let him see what I want him to see."

Malfoy frowned. "P...P...Potter, my Lord?" His voice held astonishment. "The reason you cannot sense him is because Potter hasn't been seen or heard of for over five years – not a single sighting."

"And you didn't think to tell me this sooner?" the Dark Lord snarled angrily, yet pleased at the news. The curse had obviously been successful – if it hadn't needed so much power it would have been a regular weapon in his arsenal. Harry Potter could not function in the wizarding world as a squib. He would surely meet his end if they faced each other once more. And they would meet again. He knew that without having any particular skills in the doubtful art of Divination. He would find the half-blooded squib and kill him in the most public manner possible. He would rule the wizarding world unchallenged after that.

Lucius couldn't understand his master's continued fixation on Harry Potter. There was admittedly a prophecy about the dark lord and the boy but they'd been unable to retrieve it. Surely his master couldn't be afraid of a pathetic half-blood?

"None of my faithful followers had the foresight to let me know, Lucius? Of course not."

"You've been ill, my Lord. We did not want to burden you with such trifling matters," Lucius appeased carefully.

"Nothing to do with Harry Potter is trifling to me, Lucius," Voldemort warned. "I will kill him to show the wizarding world that he has never been anything but an insignificant boy."

It galled Lucius to admit this even to himself. "My liege, it is thought that Potter may even be dead. The Order of the Phoenix, masquerading behind the Ministry of Magic, reported that Potter had been sent to a top-secret location for training." He laughed disdainfully. "They lie. They are searching for his location as diligently as we are."

"He is not dead." Voldemort was certain.

"We do not think so," admitted the blond wizard. "But there is some doubt."

"No, he is not dead – but he may be incapacitated," Voldemort murmured, a tinge of satisfaction colouring his voice. He would not believe the brat was dead until he stood over his broken body after having delivered the Avada Kedavra. He cast his mind back to the day of his temporary defeat, remembering he'd been about to Avada the boy but the young man had surprised him and turned the spell on him first. He glared up at Malfoy, his red eyes glittering impatiently. "Oh, for Salazar's sake! Leave me," the Dark Lord ordered. "I have much to think on. Keep searching for the boy. He cannot hide from us forever. When we find him I will kill him. He is weak and no match for the power of Lord Voldemort."

Lucius bowed again and swiftly removed himself from the bedchamber, glad to have avoided the customary unforgiveable curse. His master, powerful wizard though he was, had actually got something wrong. Harry Potter, like his own son, Draco, was not a boy any longer. Yet, it didn't solve the problem that they had absolutely no idea where Potter was and, according to his sources in the Ministry, neither did Albus Dumbledore.

Lucius moved carefully down the grand staircase, his eyes avoiding the portraits gracing the walls. Using the traitor Snape's blood had restored their master to them once again but he was not what he once was. It had been nearly two months and he was still unable to leave his bedchamber for any length of time.

"How is he?" one of the newer members of the Dark Lord's ranks asked carelessly.

"Gaining his strength rapidly," shot back Lucius quellingly at the younger man.

"Oh, come on," dismissed the wizard. "We've been here for three weeks and not once has he called us to his presence."

"You should be glad he did not call you," Lucius sneered. "Your current attitude will make sure that the Dark Lord removes you from his service...permanently. I am sure I can have it arranged."

"My potions have made a difference?" drawled a voice from the corner of the drawing room. "I knew that they would."

Lucius let his grey gaze rest approvingly upon his tall, handsome son, currently lounging in a comfortable dark-green leather chair. "Indeed, Draco." He then let his eyes deliberately drift over the dark-haired young woman by his son's side making her fidget nervously. "Good evening, Miss Parkinson," he said coldly.

The young woman gave a nervous giggle and glanced at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy," she said politely.

Pansy Parkinson had been one of his son's first playmates. Without a doubt, she had also been Draco's first sexual conquest. That she was still his son's favourite mistress came as no surprise to Lucius. If it hadn't been for his foolish reaction to the Dark Lord's second destruction – he should have known that his master wouldn't desert them – to affiance his son to the Weasley chit, Draco might well have been married to Miss Parkinson by now. She was a pureblood – her father was one of the Dark Lord's supporters – and, now that she had grown into her unfortunate nose, wasn't unpleasant to look at.

"I was taught by the best even if he was a traitor," drawled Draco.

A soft chiming sound was heard ringing through the room. "Someone has just passed through the wards," murmured Pansy in alarm.

Draco shrugged, unperturbed at the sound. "The visitors are not hostile to us. Believe me, Pans, we would have known if Dumbledore had suddenly shown up." He stretched out his hand and with a soft shriek, she tumbled onto his lap. The young wizard smirked at the witch in his arms and lowered his head, capturing her lush mouth in a passionate kiss. "Pans...what say you that we take this elsewhere?"

Pansy's eyes tracked nervously to the elder Malfoy. For some reason Draco had begun to test his relationship with his father and one of the easiest ways was through his relationship with her. He had never been so bold before and she could tell that the elder Malfoy disapproved. She refused to become a bone of contention between Draco and his father even if she did love the bastard. "Draco..."

Lucius glared at the couple and was about to utter a scathing remark on the inappropriateness of their behaviour when the drawing room door opened. "Behave, Draco," he hissed. "We have company of a sort."

Two wizards still dressed in heavy travelling cloaks entered the Malfoy drawing room. "Mulciber...Carrow," Lucius drawled, imperceptibly relaxing his grip on his wand. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company tonight?" He clicked his fingers and a cowed-looking house elf took the cloaks from the two wizards.

Perronus Mulciber was a shifty-looking little man – clever and vicious with a strong dislike of those of lesser blood, matched by his companion, Amycus Carrow. Anyone who failed to live up to their pureblood genetic ideals was an enemy or a lesser being to be enslaved. "Just paying my respects to the Dark Lord," he said quickly, jerking his head upwards to where he assumed his master was. "Is he recovering?"

"Yes." Lucius' shoulders drooped for a moment before he stiffened and turned his attention once more to bear on his son. "Our Master will be joining us later for dinner." A husky giggle interrupted his words and he swivelled on the balls of his feet to face the amorous couple in the corner. "Draco! Could you and Miss Parkinson possibly..." he sneered, "do that somewhere else?"

"This is my home, Father," Draco shot back. "And I want Pansy with me. She can at least, unlike some wizards, hold a decent conversation. End of story." He was referring to Crabbe and Goyle senior and junior and Lucius knew it.

"Miss Parkinson..." It was clear the title bestowed was not a courtesy. "...is not your betrothed."

Draco put Pansy off his lap and stalked towards his father. "And whose fault was that? Pansy and I would have been married a long time ago if you hadn't become afraid for your own skin. My supposed betrothed ran away rather than go through with the marriage to me. But then, what do you expect from a filthy blood-traitor. Why did you think that she really was a suitable candidate for a Malfoy bride or can't you tell me with your...friends listening?"

"Not now, Draco," Lucius bit out between clenched teeth.

"If I want to shag Pansy on the dining table in full view of the dinner guests I will do so," snapped Draco, standing to nose to nose with his father.

Pansy gave an anguished little moan. Their continued antagonism to one another hurt any chances she still had of becoming the next Malfoy bride and she'd not given up hope on that yet. Swiftly she moved to ameliorate the situation. "You promised me, Draco," she pleaded softly, "that you wouldn't upset your father tonight. Please."

Carrow gave an amused chuckle, his expression intent on Pansy's curvaceous figure which was revealed by her flimsy cocktail dress. He turned away, pouring himself and Mulciber a large firewhisky each. "That I would like to see."

Lucius' wand flew into his hand and pointed directly between Carrow's eyes. "You dare to show such disrespect to my house? Any more of such filth and I will hex you where you stand."

Carrow's lips curled. "I'd like to see you try. Your son was doing all the disrespecting himself by wanting to shag on your dining table. It's not as if we haven't had such 'entertainment' at our revels before."

Lucius gave a short burst of derisive laughter. "There will never be such entertainment as Malfoy Manor - not while I am head of the family. My wife is here and I will not have her upset by your ill-bred crudeness. I can take you in a duel any time, Amycus, and don't you forget it." He looked around at the other men, all of them trying to appear as if they'd not been avidly listening to the spat taking place. "I'm certain that the rest of you can meaningfully occupy your time until we return – but not by 'shagging' as you so rudely put it on the Malfoy dining table." He replaced his wand in the wrist holster he used in the house and mockingly ushered the two men towards the door. "Amycus, Perronus, my study, and Draco...I suggest you find something more profitable to do before dinner."

Draco's mouth worked into a sneer that matched his father's. "Come on, Pansy. Let's go and visit Mother and then I have Potions to brew for our Lord. You can help me chop." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "We'll be in the lab and don't want to be disturbed." He clasped the dark-haired witch's hand firmly and sauntered straight past his father and out of the room with a sardonic, "excuse us."

Lucius lips firmed with annoyance at his son's departing figure. If the Weasley girl hadn't run off moments before the wedding, Draco would have been married with an heir by now – possibly more, as the one thing that blood-traitor family had in their favour was the ability to have as many brats as they wanted. But no, Draco had to waste his time with Parkinson's daughter. He conveniently forgot that when Draco was born, an alliance between him and Pansy had been actively sought. But Draco had now been contracted to wed Ginevra Weasley and when they found her that was exactly what would happen. He never for one moment considered that she might not be alive. When they found her she would marry Draco whether she wanted to or not and then they would decide how long she would live for the embarrassment she had caused the family.

"You know the way, gentlemen," he snapped.

Carrow and Mulciber were not as favoured in the eyes of their master and knew it. Lucius Malfoy's orders had to be obeyed. He was not going to be happy with the news they had to give him.

The study door closed behind them as Lucius gave a quick flick of his wand and scrutinised their faces. They appeared to be unusually nervous, for some reason and then he knew what it was. "Well," he demanded. "I take it that you've finally found the body and disposed of it?"

Mulciber shifted nervously in his seat. "That's what we wanted to talk to you about." He mumbled something very quickly under his breath.

Lucius narrowed cold grey eyes. He could almost smell their fear. "What! There was no body! You still haven't located Snape's body after all this time? Are you even looking in the right place? Why couldn't you have told me this sooner? It's been nearly six weeks..."

"You were away on business," Mulciber snarled. "We've combed every inch of that wood," he added, sudden desperation on his face. "Every single bloody inch of it and not a single hair from Snape's greasy little head did we find."

"Aye, 'cos if we had, we could have killed a squib and polyjuiced the body to look like old Severus." Carrow scowled. "We're certain that it was the right place and before you ask we checked and rechecked. I was reduced to thrashing through the undergrowth like a damn Muggle without success every other day. He was dead for sure when we left him. We were going to go back for the body the next day. We couldn't wait for him to rattle out his last breath..."

Lucius reached for his brandy decanter with hands that unexpectedly shook. Salazar's breath! This did not look good at all. If the Potions Master was still alive... "Had his heart stopped beating... was he still breathing? Did you even verify that fact?"

Mulciber wriggled uneasily in his seat. "Well..."

"You just left him and assumed that he'd expire on his own."

"He was taking an age to depart this life and I had to take my wife to her mother's," explained Mulciber. "It was logical to collect the body the following day."

Lucius couldn't believe the idiocy of the two wizards. "Severus Snape was a very stubborn man in life and made it a point never to be obliging to his enemies. I never assumed that he'd be easy to kill. Perhaps, he still is a very stubborn man."

"He has to be dead," Carrow argued. "He has to be."

"Does he?" asked Lucius snidely.

"Of course he does. No one could have lingered after what he'd been through – not even Severus. He was crucio'd even longer than the Longbottoms were. They're still in St. Mungos after twenty years."

"But they're alive," interrupted Malfoy.

"They're gibbering idiots," snapped Carrow.

Malfoy had his own opinion on who were the idiots.

"You let Crabbe and Goyle pulverise him to the point that he fell unconscious," accused Mulciber. "He was losing blood rapidly from the removal of the dark mark from his arm. We left him bleeding and unconscious in the middle of a bloody wood in almost freezing temperatures. Who could survive that?"

"You don't know the real Severus Snape," Lucius muttered grimly before tossing back his glass of brandy. "Hell, none of us did apart from Bellatrix. But then, she's insane enough to be suspicious of everyone. She thought he was too close to Dumbledore. Snape would survive just to spoil all our plans – not that he can do much against the might of our Lord." Lucius felt as angry as he'd ever been. Mulciber and Carrow should have known not to be so careless. "What if he was picked up by someone?"

"Who would do that? That wood wasn't near any homes or settlements – Magical or Muggle. That was one of the reasons we selected it." Mulciber took a large swallow of his fire whisky.

"Muggles often walk in woodland, I've heard," declared Carrow.

"So do Centaurs, acromantulas, elves and oh, perhaps, wizards." Lucius was barely holding onto his temper. He had left before the assault on Severus had become too brutal but the Dark Lord didn't always lay the blame where he should.

"Perhaps a Muggle found the body," offered Mulciber with a smirk.

"Maybe he just stood up and flew away," gibed Lucius.

Mulciber clenched his fist around his wand. "Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy. Snape was not a bird animagus."

"You have the nerve to call me 'ridiculous'?" Ice dripped from every word the blond wizard uttered.

"So Mulciber, when are we going to hear in the Muggle news about a dead man wrapped in an invisibility cloak being found in an area of woodland about twenty miles south of Elgin," bit out Amycus viciously. "If he had been found we would have heard about it. Salazar! We were so stupid and the Dark Lord will have us subjected to all the unforgivables, done one after the other until we are totally insane."

"Is that where it was - ?" Lucius poured himself another brandy and sipped this one more slowly. "Near Elgin?" He shrugged dismissively. "Never been there."

"Elgin is the biggest Muggle settlement in that area, yes." Mulciber took a swig of his fire whisky. "They used to drown witches there."

"Your point being?" asked Lucius coldly. "That piece of information is hardly likely to make me want to visit." He waved his wand at his desk and it morphed magically into a large three dimensional map of the British Isles. The area around the Moray coast lit up.

"Just a point of interest," muttered Mulciber. "It's not important."

"I'm not interested. But..." Lucius straightened up. "If anyone was found in that area it would have hit the local Muggle press, would it not?"

Carrow began grinning. "It would or..." The grin widened even further. "What about Muggle Aurors? Wouldn't they know about missing persons?"

"If it was London, for instance," stated Mulciber, "no one would really take notice of a missing person. The place is too big and it happens all the time – or so people think. But in a small town they might pay more attention - especially if a body was found. Thank you, Lucius. We do know where to start looking."

"You two half-wits better get finding things out quickly. Wipe those inane grins from your faces. You've nothing to laugh about until you locate Snape's, hopefully dead, body. Did you visit the Muggle Aurors or refer to whatever worthless rag Muggles read in that part of Scotland? Be careful how you deal with the Muggles, we do not want to draw attention to ourselves and the Ministry obbliviators." Lucius took their crestfallen expressions as an answer. "We cannot keep this from our Lord indefinitely. He will find out and he will not be pleased." Lucius frowned. The Dark Lord 'not being pleased' was something of an understatement and not something they wanted to experience more than they absolutely had to. "While he's still recuperating we will find out what happened to Severus Snape and prepare our reports accordingly."

"Could Dumbledore's Order of the flaming Turkey have picked him up?" wondered Carrow.

Lucius considered the question. "Yes, there's a slight possibility of that happening. They would be concerned for the fate of their spy. I know Dumbledore was fond of Severus. However, we made absolutely certain that all port keys were removed from the body of the victim prior to torture. We could have missed one but I doubt it. He could not return to them via that method. So on reflection, it is an unlikely scenario."

"Yaxley's son...Herbert?" Mulciber said thoughtfully. "He's still at Hogwarts, isn't he?"

"Seventh year Slytherin," said Lucius. "Why?"

"Tell him to nose around the hospital wing. If Snape is alive and at Hogwarts, he will need medical assistance. He does know that his head of house is a traitor to our cause?"

"Letters have been sent to the appropriate children," answered Lucius, a self-satisfied sneer gracing his handsome features.

Carrow smirked in return. "I'll tell Yaxley to contact young Herbert."

Lucius pushed his chair back and stood up. "Let us hope that the Dark Lord is not up to Legilimency this evening or you will be experiencing my son's first attempt at a post-cruciatus Potion. He's been a little distracted by Miss Parkinson this evening but I'm sure that will not affect his brewing skills."

Carrow and Mulciber audibly gulped.

Lucius' smile was wolfish. "I would suggest that you practice occluding your minds tonight or we'll be repeating the 'hunt' for your benefit instead of Snape's."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Christmas was only two weeks away when the Order of the Phoenix next met. The past month had proved to be fruitless in the search for Harry. But the witches and wizards appointed by Dumbledore continued to doggedly search the woodlands of Grampian for any hint that magic might have been performed there. So far, they'd found nothing.

Severus Snape continued to slowly recover from his near death experience in hidden isolation but it would be many months before he would resume his menacing stride about Hogwarts with his customary grace.

"We have alerted many of our less active Order members to keep an eye out for anyone resembling Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. There were wizards sympathetic to the side of the light in various parts of the country who kept an eye out for anything unusual happening.

Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and Dovetown were the main wizarding centres in the country but there were also minor branches of Gringotts in places like Aberdeen, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Liverpool, Birmingham and Manchester.

"We can trust them?" demanded Moody, his normal paranoia asserting itself.

"Of course. They know very little. Thwaites in Manchester is a good man..."

"I know him," said Moody. "Class above me at Hogwarts."

"Then there's Anderson in Aberdeen and Singh in Birmingham."

Moody gave an approving grunt. "Good men both."

"It's highly unlikely that Harry would know of the existence of these places," Dumbledore admitted. "But it's better to be prepared in any case."

"Any actual news of Harry?" asked Remus. It was killing him to have no more news of Harry especially when they now had a genuine reason to believe he was alive and well. Snape's memory was the nearest thing they had to an actual sighting. Even though the Potions Master had been close to death, the werewolf believed that Severus had seen Harry.

"I'm afraid not but we do have some good news as Severus has finally been released from the Infirmary," beamed the headmaster. "However, he will not be returning to his position as head of Slytherin House for some time. Minerva and I felt that we were placing a great strain on Severus as he would be caring for many of the children belonging to his old associates."

Professor McGonagall gave the assembled witches and wizards a strained smile. "It's the best thing for his safety."

"They all think that he's dead," declared Hermione.

"Of course they do," the headmaster answered. "That is, for the moment they do – both his friends and his enemies. It will keep him safe until the truth of his continued existence cannot be hidden any longer. I have asked far too much from Severus over the years and should let him exist for now without the worry and the danger. He will have to live for a time as a dead man."

"Not if he's noticed striding around the corridors and he's actually solid flesh and bone," murmured Ron. "It kinda gives the game away – even if most of my friends thought he was already one of the fanged bloodsuckers."

"Professor Snape can't return to teaching Potions, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said quietly. "He can't remain in Hogwarts - not if he's supposed to be dead."

"That never stopped Binns," muttered Ron. "He never even noticed that he was dead!" His face suddenly brightened. "Hey! Snape could pretend to be a ghost and still teach Potions."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that would work. So what will happen to him – Professor Snape, that is?" Hermione found that she pitied the man. "He can't return to his spying duties, nor can he teach."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I must admit that I had considered it, Miss Granger – the ghost theory. But Potions is primarily a practical subject and would be nigh on impossible to be ghost-led. I also feel that Severus would find it difficult to act in the correct manner. He won't be teaching at the moment – he isn't yet fit enough. I have discussed it with him and although he is unhappy at the prospect of 'abandoning his Slytherins', as he put it, he does understand. We will inveigle Horace Slughorn back to deputise for Severus until he has recovered fully. He will also act as Slytherin head of house."

"Not all Slytherins are followers of You-know-who, Albus," said Professor McGonagall stiffly.

"Of course not, Minerva, but alas, I have to unfortunately say that we do have one or two students with questionable loyalties."

"Loyalties can change if the student is given the chance," said the transfiguration professor softly. "Think of Severus."

Moody spoke up, his voice gruff. "We are presently upping the specifications of the potions lab in the cellar at Grimmauld Place. Professor Snape will move there once he has completed his recovery and will brew healing Potions for the Order and Wolfsbane for Mr. Lupin."

"That will be a relief for Remus," agreed Hermione. "But I cannot see Professor Snape being happy with that arrangement for very long."

Ron scowled. "Sirius hated it and you did the same thing to Harry and look what happened to him. I don't like Snape but I sure couldn't have done what he did, spying against You-know-who. Rewarding him by imprisoning him in Grimmauld place is...unkind."

Moody snorted. "Snape's an adult and knew what he was getting into when he agreed to spy for the Order."

Bill Weasley shook his head. "You're being very unfair to Severus, Mad-Eye. We cannot keep him locked away. I don't think he did know what he was getting himself into. I don't think any of us knew what we were getting ourselves into and we weren't spying against the...V...Voldemort. I never took Divination..."

"It's a very woolly discipline," muttered Minerva under her breath.

"Voldemort believes the prophecy," stated Dumbledore with a sharp look at his deputy. "He went after Harry because of it and the rest is history. He will not stop until he has destroyed the boy." He steepled his long fingers together. "Severus will not be kept a prisoner and I guarantee he will enjoy his recovery doing research. He will be free to leave if he wants to."

"That's more than you were willing to grant Harry," threw in Fred bitterly.

Dumbledore paused and glanced at the young man. He had no way of proving it but he suspected that Fred and George Weasley knew far more about Harry's disappearance than they'd let on. "It will be some time before Severus is able to do very much. Now, tell me, how has our search been going?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt threw up his hands in defeat. "We have found no trace of him so far. No hint that magic has been performed by Harry as far as the Ministry records are concerned. We have scanned from Aberdeen westwards."

"We need more manpower, Albus," declared Moody. "I know you don't have any to spare but that's the bottom line. There's too much country to cover properly."

"The Ministry watches us," said Tonks. "There would be an uproar if they found out that Harry's been hiding from us – although I'm not sure anyone is buying the 'he's away for extra training' story. Kingsley and I can only get away on our days off. I agree that it's not enough but we want to see Harry safe."

"Scrimgeour is aware of the Snape-Voldemort situation," said Dumbledore. "He was reluctant to believe me at first but he is far more reasonable than Fudge. But there are spies at the Ministry just waiting for their chance to augment discord – even Rufus has to be careful. We cannot risk the information on our search for Harry coming to light. You are right to be cautious, Nymphadora."

Tonks scowled at the sound of her hated first name.

"Harry will hopefully know that Voldemort has returned," said Hestia Jones.

"I would expect so," murmured the headmaster. "He is still connected to Voldemort through his scar but there is no guarantee. Still, it was Harry that found Severus. He would likely guess what had happened to his former professor from his wounds."

"Why doesn't he come back to us?" asked Hermione sadly.

"He will when the time is right," answered Dumbledore. "Harry has never let us down before and he will not do it now."

Fred and George glanced at one another. They'd been uncharacteristically silent at this Order meeting, worried that they might give Harry away. Harry, Ginny and Jamie couldn't be found – not yet. They weren't prepared for returning to wizarding life with all it entailed. They'd been amazed at the existence of their nephew and after shouting at Harry for ten minutes straight, had forgiven Harry and Ginny for keeping the secret. The idea that Harry's scar linked him to the dark wizard worried them not just for Harry's sake. There was now Ginny and, of course, Jamie to consider.

Fred cleared his throat and glared at the ancient mage. "What makes you so sure?"

"I know Harry, Mr. Weasley."

"If you'd known him so well, you would never have treated him so badly," Fred said forthrightly.

"Fred!" warned Bill and George at the same time.

"I wasn't going to say anything else," muttered Fred in an undertone. "I'm not Ron."

Dumbledore frowned and peered at the three elder Weasley brothers. This was the second time that Fred had criticised Harry's treatment. "Is there anything you would care to share with us?"

"No," said Bill shortly. "Let's get back to finding Harry before Voldemort does."

George gave Bill a round of applause. "Impressive, William. I never thought you had it in you."

"It's just a name," growled Bill. "And a damn stupid one at that."

xxxxx

Three days earlier

"Why?" asked George, after he'd finally run out of steam.

"We wanted your Mum to be the first to know about Jamie," Harry had explained softly. "It was her right."

"What about Ron and Hermione?"

"Soon," he whispered. "Soon. When the time is right. Remus also needs to know but I have plans for that."

"What about Dumbledore?"

"When everyone else finds out. Then he'll know," Harry said, a bitter twist to his mouth. "I know he's thinking of the 'bigger picture' or as he terms it, 'the greater good'. But it's hard to see that when it's my life he's mucking up."

But time had continued to pass and Dumbledore had called another Order meeting. It was obvious to Bill that Harry was no closer to revealing himself to the Order.

Yes, they all thought that the marriage contract was worthless and the goblins had confirmed that the magic held within the parchment had somehow bled away over time and the strength of Harry and Ginny's bond with one another had been the cause.

The Malfoy contract was worthless and obsolete.

However, they hadn't yet informed Dumbledore of that nugget of information and the Potters remained firmly in hiding. Harry and Ginny liked their new anonymity and it gave them a bargaining chip to hold. In a strange way, Harry had achieved what his Aunt Petunia had not – that happy family life.

"It's all for Jamie," Ginny had said. "He's our everything and we're not leaving him the way Harry's parents had to leave him."

"We don't have someone like Pettigrew," said Harry. "But Mundungus Fletcher is trusted with a lot of Order business and I have little confidence in him."

"No one really trusts Fletcher," Bill had said quietly, "and how do you know we don't have a Pettigrew? I hate to remind you that your parents thought he was trustworthy enough to make him their secret keeper."

Harry's face showed his dismay. "How could I be so arrogant and think that I know any better than my parents did back then?" He rubbed his hands across face and then stared directly at Bill. "I don't know better but I'm praying that Ginny and I have better friends than my parents did who won't blab our whereabouts to the first Death Eater to cross their path."

Fred had clapped Harry comfortingly on the shoulder. "Not even Percy, the git, would betray you to Voldemort."

"He nearly did by offering to Ginny to Malfoy," Harry retorted. "That was as good as handing her to him. He's completely witless. How could he have fallen for their tricks?"

"We'll wait a little while longer," Ginny stated decisively, with a calming hand placed on her husband's shoulder ready to prevent any diatribe about Percy flowing from his lips. "It's for the best."

George smiled at his sister's successful attempts to calm her husband. Percy was a subject best left for another time. "So," he rubbed his hands together. "You're going after Remus next."

Harry's green eyes narrowed momentarily before relaxing. "Yes. I want to see him. He's the only Marauder left and I miss him."

"He's missed you, too, if it's any help," said Bill softly.

"It is." Harry's eyes were suspiciously misty. "But I couldn't tell him and he couldn't come with us. The Ministry are hard enough on werewolves as it is."

"We are going to get the goblins to petition the Ministry on your behalf, Harry. It is time that this sham of a marriage contract is overturned. It will be interesting to see how people react to that piece of information."

"I can already guess at the outcome," Harry said dryly. "You'd maybe better get the goblins to find us a good lawyer, too. I'll probably need to sue The Daily Prophet."

"You don't need a lawyer," stated Bill. "The contract is worthless. The Ministry have to see that."

"Maybe so. But perhaps Ginny and I would like our own contract written up. We have a son and another child on the way. I want them protected to the greatest extent that magical law can manage. I never want scum like Malfoy anywhere near my wife and children ever again."

xxxxx

Present time

"Is there a problem?" Dumbledore's voice intruded into the twins' silent communication with their eldest brother. "You have all been very quiet until now."

Fred blinked, then glanced atRemus before shaking his head wildly. "No, no problem."

Dumbledore paused. "Are you sure? I was about to ask how your communication devices were coming along?"

Guessing that he had to get the headmaster's attention away from their atypical behaviour, George sat up and beamed at the Order members present in the room. "We are very close," he boasted proudly. "Our latest devices, based on Hermione's 'mobile fun', are in the final testing stage."

"It's a 'phone'," Hermione interrupted wearily. "A telephone, to be exact."

"We think our version is better, Hermione," Fred said grinning. "It won't be 'fun' for our enemies."

"Especially if we can get the random dialling firework to work properly."

"You're rigging the phones to explode?" breathed Tonks, a large grin forming on her lips.

"Well..." Fred's eyes tracked to George's and away again. "It seems to be a by-product of our current research."

"Poppy was very glad to see both of you in the infirmary last week." Fleur's mouth twisted up in an amused smirk. "She said that it was very like old times."

"Once we fine tune everything, then there will be a 'fun' for all Order members," Fred said, all joking gone.

"It could work more discretely than a Patronus." George grinned at a concerned-looking Bill.

"How so?" Dumbledore was genuinely interested. The Weasley twins were brilliant innovators.

"A Patronus is a highly visible way of sending a message. Our 'fun' is very effective, virtually undetectable and almost as quick as a Patronus." Fred smirked happily. They had managed to divert a suspicious Dumbledore's interest away from anything they may or may not know about Harry. "And Muggles can rig their 'funs' to vibrate." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Minerva McGonagall's lips twitched.

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said. "This may be nothing but...well, the coincidence makes me think it's worth taking a look at."

"Go on, Miss Granger," encouraged Dumbledore with a smile.

"If it's a red herring..."

"Why would it be a fish?" asked Ron. "Why are we suddenly talking about fish?"

Hermione sighed. She hated being interrupted. "'A red herring' is a Muggle saying, Ronald," she explained. "It distracts you from what you really want to know or find."

"Oh, okay. I understand." Ron grinned at Tonks. Muggles were confusing. "You mean a purple hippogriff."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why I am surprised, I don't really know. I should have expected something like that – a purple hippogriff indeed. I've been checking back over local newspapers in the area highlighted by our search and... Read it for yourself." Hermione passed out several pieces of paper to the Order members present. "It's a small piece from a paper called, 'The Press and Journal'. I almost missed it because it was tucked away in a tiny column on the inside pages. It intrigued me, so I did some further research. That particular area also has a weekly paper. It's mainly adverts and birth/death announcements – that sort of thing..."

"Hermione," said Remus gently. "You're straying off topic."

"Oh, sorry," she flushed. "Anyway...this story made the front page. There was a Muggle witness and a man badly injured..."

Minerva McGonagall was the first to scan the paragraphs. "And you think this is significant, Hermione? I am sorry for the Muggle who crashed his car into the tree but that surely wasn't because of wizarding interference."

"Yes, I do think that it was," the girl answered firmly. "If it was merely anti-social teenagers setting off fireworks it's easy to prove and we won't have lost very much time but, Professor McGonagall, everything fits. The date, the time, the location – everything matches the time Snape disappeared to when he turned up at Hogwarts. When does V...Voldemort like to act apart from the end of the school year? Halloween, of course." She waved her wand and parchment maps appeared in front of everyone. "It's miles from anywhere and well, I was never one of what the Muggle media would term the 'disaffected youth' but..." She looked around the table. "They would have been drinking and it's miles from a pub. There are a couple of solitary houses and some farms. Why pick a completely deserted road which sees little traffic to fire rockets across? I think the fact that someone got hurt is pure chance."

"Tell that to Severus Snape," muttered Lupin.

Moody's magical eye spun wildly in its socket for a minute or two. "She's right, you know. It's the first real lead we've had since Snape was port-keyed in."

"I think we should investigate further," agreed Hestia. "What harm can it do?"

Dumbledore smiled warmly as excited chatter erupted around him. "It can do no harm at all. Well done, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks. If it brings Harry home to us, then everything is worth it."

"We need to keep him safe," the headmaster admitted. "Without Harry..."

Ron sat quietly amidst the suddenly energised members of the Order, not noticing that he wasn't the only one who wasn't as enthused about all of this. Bill, Fred and George were muttering to one another in hushed undertones.

Ron had had quite some time to think over the years and in the last few weeks, with the attack on Snape and all the implications that came with that, Ron Weasley had finally begun to grow up. He asked the question that no one else had the guts to ask straight out. "What happens if Harry doesn't want to come home?"

The excited talk faded leaving a stunned silence.

"Why wouldn't Harry want to come home?" asked Tonks.

Ron stuck out his chin. "He left of his own free will, didn't he? There was no suggestion that he was captured. He walked out of Diagon Alley covered by his invisibility cloak and never came back."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed.

"Ronald," Hermione said impatiently, "Harry has to be found and kept safe because..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Harry's the chosen one and all that. But suppose he's made a life for himself and is happy. We've not been able to find him so he must be safe. Why must he come back?"

Hermione's brown eyes widened.

"What has he got to come back for?" Ron looked around the table at the assembled Order members who all looked as if they'd just eaten something unpleasant. "He didn't bring Snape back to Hogwarts. He sent him back. There was no note...nothing. He didn't want us to know anything."

"Why wouldn't Harry want to come back?" asked Hermione. "Of course, he would. That's a stupid question, Ron..."

"Harry has no choice..." Dumbledore said, looking unusually hesitant.

"We all have choices, Albus," murmured Remus. "You've told us all that on more than one occasion. It's our choices that make us what we are. We have to choose between what is right and what is easy. Harry's been put through far too much already in his life and if he's safe and happy..."

"But he's not safe," said Professor McGonagall.

"With V...Vold..Voldemort back," Hermione finished the name swiftly, "none of us are safe but Harry is a powerful wizard and can easily defend himself. He can throw off the Imperius Curse, for Merlin's sake. How many other wizards could do that at fourteen?"

"But if You-know-who comes after him," said Hestia. "Could he survive against more than one Death Eater."

"He's done it before," Ron muttered.

"He has to be living in the Muggle world with little or no magic," Hermione stated. "We've discussed this before. What I can't understand is Harry going away permanently. He loves the wizarding world and his magic."

"But he was used to being without it," said Tonks. "You would be the same, and me. You're a Muggleborn and Harry and I are halfbloods with strong ties to the Muggle world."

"So we find Harry and imprison him here for his own good?" asked Bill, his feelings of distaste plain to see. "Harry may own Grimmauld Place but he doesn't like it. Hell, bring him back to the wizarding world and keep him safe in Azkaban. It's the same thing isn't it?"

"You know that Harry can't cope with the dementors," cried Hermione. "That's a silly thing to say, Bill."

"Is it?" Bill's mouth flattened into a thin line. "He's got demons that haunt him in this house, too. Sirius was trapped here."

"But the prophecy," Hermione whispered, inexplicably shaken at the mention of Sirius Black. "V...V...Voldemort will keep coming after him until he succeeds in killing Harry or is destroyed by Harry. There's no way out."

Albus had never felt as old as he did at that moment. He closed his eyes for a moment before giving Minerva a tiny nod. "There's an even greater reason that Harry's in danger."

"What now?" Bill muttered, his exasperation showing. Even his patience with the headmaster had run out.

Remus looked alarmed. "What is it?" He felt like crying. What had Harry to do now?

"Voldemort threw a curse at Harry during the fight at Hogsmeade."

"That's not uncommon," murmured Tonks.

"The curse is. It can drain the victim of their magic - possibly permanently."

"I've never heard of that," said Hermione sitting up. "What is it called?" They could all see that she was itching to start researching it.

"It's a very dark curse," said Professor McGonagall. "I would suspect that You-know-who is the only one capable of performing it."

"You are kidding, aren't you?" Ron burst out.

"I'm sorry to say that I am not."

Remus sat up straight in his chair, his amber eyes stormy. "You knew about this when Harry disappeared." It wasn't a question.

"I did," admitted Dumbledore.

"That's why you wanted him to return to Privet Drive. Harry knew about the curse, too?" asked Hermione incredulously. "What made you even think that his horrible relatives would accept him back."

"They would accept him because they had to." Dumbledore sighed. "There are ways..."

Alastor Moody gave a heavy sigh preventing Dumbledore from answering. "You've made some mistakes in your time, Albus, but I think that was one of your biggest."

"I know and I've apologised in my head to Harry a hundred thousand times but he's never been here to hear it." The headmaster let his head rest in his hands. "I've not done my best by that boy. I only hope he can forgive me."

Tonks stretched out her hand to grip Lupin's tightly. "I thought there was something wrong with Harry five years ago but I didn't that it could be something this serious. What?" she demanded, glaring at the Order members. "I'm clumsy, not blind. I like Harry, love him in a way. He's a good kid and he's had a really raw deal over the years. He was in love with Ginny Weasley – did you know that? I could clearly see it but no, you had to hand her over practically gift-wrapped to my asinine cousin, Draco."

"You knew that Harry...and Ginny?" Bill stuttered to a stop.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Bill." Tonks shook her head, her hair morphing through the colour spectrum finished on a particularly bilious shade of green. "It's as clear as the ever-changing colours of my hair that Harry had a major thing for your sister and only broke up with her because he thought it would keep her safe. But that's not what we're discussing here. You-know-who cast a hex at Harry that turned him into a squib?"

Dumbledore lifted his head. "Yes, but the breakdown of the wizard's magic happens gradually over several weeks – if not months. It is not an instant thing. The witch or wizard in question will feel more tired than usual – drained of energy with accompanying dizziness or nausea."

"Headaches," said Hermione quietly to Ron. "Harry had these headaches that weren't V... You-know-who related."

"Is there a cure?" Shacklebolt's deep voice boomed across the room.

"If caught and treated in time then the damage can be controlled to a point."

"And that is?" Remus voice was glacial.

"His magic must drain away before it can recover." Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him. "What Harry needs is time and time is something he probably doesn't have. It's only been five years. In the few documented cases in existence over the last eight hundred years - the time needed is longer – ten to fifteen years at least and sometimes the magic never returns fully."

"But he made a portkey?" said Hermione, recalling the sight of Harry's pale pinched face five years ago with misgiving. "He must have some magic left or perhaps it is returning."

"I am hoping you are right in this matter, Miss Granger."

"How long would it take for his magic to recover from such a curse?" Bill Weasley asked coolly, but inside he was laughing. Trust Harry to survive once more against the odds.

"He cast the port key and so he must have some recovery. Harry was an extremely powerful young man before all this happened. It's difficult to gauge," replied Dumbledore carefully. "Voldemort is the only wizard alive who could cast this curse. You'll forgive me if I don't divulge its name."

"You do not have to. I already know of it. Merde, but it's horrible," Fleur had spoken for only the second time during that meeting.

The headmaster looked surprised. "You have heard of it?"

"Oui," the French girl answered matter-of-factly. "We heard of it during our advanced classes at Beauxbatons. It is not an unforgiveable - but only because there are none alive capable of performing such a curse."

"Now you know that's not true, Mrs. Weasley." Dumbledore said wearily. "There is a wizard capable of casting it. Although, I think that was what allowed Harry to destroy Voldemort once more. The spell takes the magic from the wizard's core temporarily weakening him to fuel the power."

"The hex is Magisiphonoux," declared Fleur, a little spiteful satisfaction in her gaze directed at Dumbledore. Harry had always treated her kindly.

"You shouldn't have divulged that, Mrs. Weasley," said the headmaster sadly.

"It's not a secret. All the witches and wizards in my year at Beauxbatons were given information on such dark curses. Do you expect Durmstrang would have done any less?"

Hermione shot to her feet, ignoring Ron's hand trying to tug her down again. "You knew about this, Professor Dumbledore, and you didn't tell us what was happening to our best friend? Harry left us five years ago and for all this time you've said nothing."

"This was too sensitive information to release, Miss Granger. If the wrong people had found this out they would have stopped at nothing to destroy him."

"That was a regular part of Harry's life from the moment he entered Hogwarts," said Ron matter-of-factly "Quirrel, diary-Riddle, Barty Crouch Junior..."

Dumbledore held up his hands stopping Ron's flow of words as he tried to explain. "This time it was different. Harry truly was defenceless and could still be so."

Hermione was so angry that she could barely get the words out. "That's why he left. He had to. He couldn't stay and not do magic. He wasn't even safe to walk down Diagon Alley anymore." Her eyes narrowed on Dumbledore. "That's why you wanted him to return to his relatives - because he couldn't be with his own kind any more. You would have forced him there, wouldn't you?"

"Miss Granger..." Professor McGonagall tried to stop her favourite ex-pupil from shouting further at the headmaster.

"Did Harry know what was happening to him?" asked Hermione, her eyes filling with tears.

Dumbledore wondered how much his answer would cost him. "Yes, he knew," he admitted.

"Merlin," she breathed, sinking down beside Ron. "He didn't tell us. He couldn't trust us to support him. Going back to those awful people would have killed him."

"We don't have a choice in this, do we?" asked Ron bleakly. "We have to find him before You-know... Oh, bloody hell!" he swore, glad that his mother wasn't at this particular meeting. "We have to find Harry before V...Voldemort does."

"That we do, lad," agreed Moody. "But if he can send a man by port key to Hogwarts then he's not a complete squib."

"Harry is a powerful young man," stated Dumbledore. "We do not know what his power truly could be. Five years without magic could be enough to temper and fine tune that magic. He could resent the wizarding world for what has happened to him. We all start out with the best intentions..."

"How dare you, Dumbledore! Harry would never..." Remus' voice emerged sounding like a snarl. "Harry could never." The werewolf reigned in his temper with difficulty, the power of the wolf visible in his amber eyes. "You sound as if you don't want Harry to be powerful."

Dumbledore heaved a great sigh. "I'm not sure that I do. Harry once said that Voldemort had fifty plus years of magical knowledge over him and there was no way he could possibly know enough to defeat him. I brushed him off because it was true. Said something trite about 'the power he knows not' and hoped that he would accept my response. I forgot that I wasn't dealing with a child anymore and we never were quite certain what that power was. I was hoping that it was Harry's power to love."

"If it's a match of power, how can he defeat Voldemort now?" Hermione shouted. "Everything Harry loves has been taken from him. What can love do for Harry? Hug You-know-who into oblivion"

"The boy has been left totally defenceless without magic. How can he be our only hope? Perhaps you made a mistake with the prophecy," said Moody gruffly.

Dumbledore's face looked defeated for a moment. "There is no mistake," he said. "Harry was the one marked as Voldemort's equal. Whatever happens, Voldemort will come after Harry. He has a point to prove."

Fred and George caught one another's eyes. Harry and Ginny would be rather interested in today's developments.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Christmas market was in full swing as Ginny met Caroline and Helen in town for a last go at the Christmas shopping. She was a little anxious as she'd waved Harry away very early in the morning. He was driving to Aberdeen with a colleague for some sort of work seminar at the University. While he was there, he was going to visit the small wizarding district close by and, if things went their way, be able to contact Remus Lupin.

"Are you meeting your husband for lunch?" asked Helen. "He'll be finished at 1pm."

Ginny shook her head, aware of feeling a sense of vague unease about something. "No, Gary's in Aberdeen at some seminar thing for the bank – on a Saturday, too. I don't think he was looking forward to it. But it means I can finish off the Christmas shopping and actually get his present home, wrapped and hidden. He can be difficult to buy for."

"All men are difficult to buy for," Helen said ruefully. "I say every year that I'm not buying my father-in-law more socks but inevitably I do - socks or slippers. Still, it's the thought that counts."

"Let's go and get a cuppie before we check out these stalls. I notice the guys selling the German sausages are here again. They're great with pasta and on pizza and he gave me a great bargain last year." Caroline began pulling them towards the small cafe narrowly avoiding a squat man who pushed rudely past them without an excuse me. Behind them, the brass band played 'God Rest ye Merry Gentlemen' in front of the large Christmas tree.

It brought back memories of another Christmas. The tune was the same but the words had been magical. Sirius had taught 'God Rest ye merry Hippogriffs' to Harry. Jamie would be much more aware of his presents this year. Harry had done most of the opening and indeed the playing with his son's toys for the last two Christmases.

Ginny didn't know what made her turn her head to glance once more behind her at the festive scene but what she saw made her blood run cold. The wizarding world hadn't found her yet but they were not far away. "Merlin," she whispered, her stomach lurching with sudden fear. A group of wizards stood watching the general Christmas bustle with sneering disdain, wands gripped between tight fingers. They had finally caught up with her and Harry. How could they have found them?

She looked down into the pushchair and whispered a sleeping charm her own mother had used with all her children. Jamie didn't need to see any of this. Some of those wizards looked vaguely familiar and she couldn't see this ending well.

Caroline stopped in the open door of the cafe. "Jenny..."

"Get inside," she whispered fiercely, pushing Jamie's pushchair into Helen's hands. "Get inside both of you, go straight to the back and keep your heads down. And hide my son. These bastards aren't getting near him."

"What!"

"Go!" she snapped. "You're both Muggles. You can't do anything against a group of homicidal wizards."

"Did you say wizards?" queried Caroline faintly.

"I'll explain as much as I'm allowed to later." But Ginny suspected there wouldn't be a later. This was too public an event. The Ministry of Magic would send Ministry obliviators up to wipe the memories of the Muggles. She had to make sure that she wasn't around when they did so.

There was a sudden scream and then the town centre exploded into chaos. Ginny gritted her teeth and inched forward, her wand appearing in her hand. She was wrong; it wasn't her they were looking for after all. They were trying to cause as much mayhem in a Muggle area as they could.

xxxxxxxxxx

32